Philosophy in the Middle Ages: The Christian, Islamic, and Jewish Traditions

Philosophy in the Middle Ages The Christian, Islamic, and Jewish Traditions Third Edition

Edited by

Arthur Hyman, James J. Walsh, and

Thomas Williams

Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. Indianapolis/Cambridge

Copyright© 2010 by Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America 14 1 3 12

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For further information, please address Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. P.O. Box 44937 Indianapolis, Indiana 46244-0937 \H\w.hackettpublishing.com Cover design by Brian Rak and Abigail Coyle Text design by \1ary Vasquez Composition by Agnew's, Inc. Printed at Sheridan Books, Inc. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Philosophy in the \1iddle Ages : the Christian, Islamic, and Jewish traditions I edited by Arthur Hyman, James J. Walsh, and Thomas Williams. - 3rd ed. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISB:\ 978- 1 -60384-208-2 (pbk.) - ISB:\ 978- 1 -60384-209-9 (cloth) I. Philosophy, \1edieval. I. Hyman, Arthur, 1921- II. Walsh, James J. (James Jerome), 1924III. Williams, "Thomas, 1 967B72 l .P478 20 1 0 l 89-dc22 20 1 00 1 6295

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American :\"ational Standard for Information Sciences- Permanence of paper for Printed Library Materials, A.i'iSI Z39.4B--1984.

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CONTENTS

Preface to the Third Edition

IX

Introduction

XI

Early Medieval Christian Philosophy Augustine l. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

The Teacher (complete) On Free Choice of the Will 2.3-3.6 Reconsiderations 1.9 On the Trinity 15.12.21 Confessions 2.4-2.10 Confessions 7.9-7.16 Confessions 11.3-11.28 City of God 19.3-19.28

Boethius 9. The Consolation of Philosophy 3.9-end 10. Contra Eutychen 1.1-1.71 11. On the Trinity 1.7-2.58 Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite 12. The Mystical Theology (complete)

5 9 34 61 64 66 69 72 81

100 103 138 139

141 142

v

VI

Contents

145

John Scottus Eriugena 13. On the Division of �ature

147

156

Anselm 14. 'vfonologion 1-4 15. Proslogion and the Exchange with Gaunilo .

158 161

182

Peter Abelard

184 202

16. Glosses on Porphyry 17. Ethics, or Know Thyself Islamic Philosophy

220 18. The Principles of Existing Things (complete)

239

Ibn Sina 19. 20. 21. 22.

The Salvation, "\.1etaphysics" 2.1-2.5, 2.12, 2.13, 2.18, 2.19 The Cure, "\.1etaphysics" 6.1--{i.2 The Salvation, "Psychology" 6.9, 6.12, 6.13 The Cure, "The Soul" 5.7

244 249 256 261

265

Al-Ghazali 23. The Incoherence of the Philosophers, On the Eternity of the World 24. The Incoherence of the Philosophers, Concerning the :--.; atural Sciences

268 278

285

Ibn Rushd 25. 26. 27. 28.

223

The Decisive Treatise (complete) Long Commentary on ' The Soul" 3.4 Long Commentary on ' The Soul" 3.5, 3.18--3.20 The Incoherence of ' The Incoherence"

289 304 306 324

Jewish Philosophy Saadia 29. Book of Doctrines and Beliefs 1.1-1.3, 3.1-3.3 Solomon ibn Gabirol 30. The Fountain of Life

3 38 341

3 51 353

Contents

VII

360

Moses Maimonides 31. The Guide of the Perplexed

364

386

Levi ben Gershom 32. The Wars of the Lord 3.1-3.6

389

397

l:lasdai Crescas 33. The Light of the Lord 2.6.1

401

Latin Philosophy in the Thirteenth Century

412

Bonaventure 34. Conferences on the Hexaemeron 3.7 35. Conferences on the Hexaemeron I. 3 36. The Mind's Journey into God (complete)

437

Siger of Brabant 37. Question on the Eternity of the World (complete)

440

447

Thomas Aquinas 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44.

414 416 417

On Being and Essence Summa Theologiae, Selections from the "Treatise on God" Summa Theologiae, Selections from the 'Treatise on Creation" Summa Theologiae, Selections from the "Treatise on Human :\ature" Summa Theologiae, Selections from the "Treatise on Happiness" Summa Theologiae, Selections from the "Treatise on Virtue" Summa Theologiae, Selections from the "Treatise on Law"

The Condemnation of 1277 45. Condemnation of 219 Propositions

451 457 483 494 518 524 528

5 39 541

Latin Philosophy in the Fourteenth Century John Duns Scotus 46. 47. 48. 49. 50.

The Existence of an Infinite Being The Possibility of Knowing God Against Illumination and Skepticism Intuitive and Abstractive Cognition Universals and Individuation

553 556 567 571 581 582

vm

Contents 51. 52. 53. 54.

Contingency and the Divine Will Freedom and the Fall The Goodness of �oral Acts The Decalogue and the :\"atural Law

William of Ockham 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62.

Selections from Summa logicae, Part One Universals and Individuation Intuitive and Abstractive Cognition Relations �otion Projectile �otion Efficient and Final Causality The Connection of the Virtues

Nicholas of Autrecourt 63. Letters to Bernard of Arezzo Marsilius of Padua 64. The Defender of Peace John Buridan 65. 66. 67. 68. 69.

Certainty and Truth Knowledge Essence and Existence \1otion Happiness

Select Bibliography

592 595 599 601

605 608 616 624 631 636 639 640 643

650 652

659 665

686 689 692 696 700 705

709

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION

The Second Edition of Philosophy in the ,\fiddle Ages has served teachers and students of medieval philoso­ phy admirably for a quarter century, and our aim in the Third Edition has been to make only modest changes. The selection of authors has been left unchanged ex­ cept for the deletion of a couple of figures whose writ­ ings, we discovered, were practically never assigned and the addition of a brief selection from Pseudo­ Dionysius the Areopagite, whose influence on medi­ eval thought surely earns him a place in an anthology like this one. Since the publication of the Second Edi­ tion, many excellent new translations of medieval philosophical texts have been published as well, thanks in no small part to Hackett Publishing Company. We have drawn on these new translations as much as pos­ sible. :'vtoreover, many readings have been translated anew on the basis of critical editions that were not avail­ able when the Second Edition was published; where we have used older translations, we have checked them wherever possible against new editions. We have also expanded somewhat the coverage of ethics, particu­ larly in the sections on thirteenth- and fourteenth­ century Latin philosophy. The introductions to the vol­ ume and to each of the sections have been left almost entirely unchanged for the Third Edition, and the in­ troductions to each thinker have been changed only as necessary to reflect changes in the selections.

The section on Early Medieval Christian Philoso­ phy now offers the whole of Augustine's The Teacher as well as two additional selections from the Confes­ sions- the story of the theft of the pears, from Book 2, and the account of Augustine's encounter with Pla­ tonism, with its attendant reflections on the nature of good and evil, from Book 7 -and a short but impor­ tant anti-skeptical passage from On the Trinity. The selection from Boethius' Consolation of Philosophy has been greatly enlarged, so that it now starts at the point in Book 3 at which Lady Philosophy begins to lay out the nature of true happiness and continues without interruption through the end of the work. );ew selections from Contra Eutychen and On the Trinity present, in a remarkably compact form, the ele­ ments of Boethius' metaphysics of substance and ac­ cident, form and matter, and identity and difference. The complete text of The Mystical Theology has been added to provide a sense of the remarkable style of Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite as well as an over­ view of his teaching. The selection from Anselm has been expanded to include the theistic arguments of the first four chapters of Monologion as well as the complete text of Proslogion. The selection from Abelard's Glosses on Porphyry has been extended to in­ clude his engagement with Boethius' treatment of the problem of universals. IX

x

Preface to the Third Edition

In the section on Islamic Philosophy, a few read­ ings that many users of the Second Edition found ob­ scure have been replaced by readings that we think will be more accessible but still representative of their authors. Al-Farabr is now represented by The Princi­ ples ofExisting Things, which presents his basic meta­ physics of causality, modality, and form and matter, as well as sketches his views on cosmology, predication concerning the First Existent, and the nature of the in­ tellect. We have included an additional selection from al-Chazalr's The Incoherence of the Philosophers that engages with the eternity of the world, an issue taken up in different ways by several of the thinkers repre­ sented in this volume. The selections from Ibn Rushd now include more of the Long Commentary on 'The Soul" as well as his reply in The Incoherence of 'The Incoherence" to al-Chazalr's arguments concerning the eternity of the world. The Jewish Philosophy sec­ tion has been left unchanged except for the use of slightly different selections from The Guide of the Per­ plexed, taken from Julius Guttmann's abridgment of the Chaim Rabin translation. In the section on Latin Philosophy in the Thir­ teenth Century, we have replaced Retracing the Arts to Theology with the complete text of Bonaventure's The Mind's Journey into God, providing a more com­ prehensive look at Bonaventure's distinctive approach to philosophy and theology. Additional selections from Thomas Aquinas's Summa Theologiae include discus-

sions of the nature of goodness and of the active and passive intellect, and a fuller treatment of theological semantics, creation, and human nature. All 219 pro­ positions condemned in 1277 are listed. The readings in Latin Philosophy in the Fourteenth Century are largely the same, although there are some new translations (or older translations checked against new editions). The only major changes are in the read­ ings from John Duns Scotus. The considerable ad­ vances in textual scholarship on Scotus and the admirable progress made on the critical edition of the Ordinatio have necessitated the replacement of the reading on contingency, a text now known to be inauthentic, with a parallel text from the Lectura, as well as the use of new translations from the critical edi­ tion of all the remaining material, which is from the Ordinatio. I am grateful to Deborah Black and Jon :\fcGinnis for their help and advice concerning the revisions of the Islamic Philosophy section; to Jack Zupko for his assistance with the fourteenth-century Latin Philoso­ phy section; and to Paul Vincent Spade, whose exten­ sive comments some years ago concerning a proposed revision of the Second Edition proved very helpful to me in preparing this Third Edition and who gener­ ously permitted us to use several of his own transla­ tions in this edition. T.W.

INTRODUCTION

The editors of this volume hope that it will prove use­ ful for the study of philosophy in the :\-Iiddle Ages by virtue of the comprehensiveness of its selections. The reader will find here the major representative thinkers of that period and a wide range of topics, including ethics and political theory as well as the more fre­ quently studied epistemology, metaphysics, and natu­ ral theology. The reader will also find three groups of philosophers not usually given the scope they have here, and who are historically and philosophically more important than their comparative neglect would indicate. These are the \1uslim, Jewish, and four­ teenth-century Latin Christian philosophers. There is little agreement as to just who should be classified as a medieval philosopher. Some scholars, defining medieval philosophy by reference to the ef­ fort to resolve the apparent inconsistencies between scriptural revelation and Greek philosophy, look to thinkers of the second century A.D. or even back to Philo of Alexandria in the first century A.D. for their point of departure. Others, seeing a sharp distinction between patristic and scholastic writings, would begin the :\-Iiddle Ages in Latin Christian philosophy with Eriugena in the ninth century or with Anselm of Can­ terbury in the eleventh. The other boundary is drawn just as variously: some scholars look upon William of Ockham in the fourteenth century as the last medieval philosopher worthy of the name, while others would

go on to �icholas of Cusa in the fifteenth century or to Suarez in the sixteenth. We have here rather arbi­ trarily begun with Augustine in the fourth century and ended with Buridan in the fourteenth. :\1uslim phi­ losophy is sometimes regarded as having originated to­ ward the end of the eighth century, when Mu'tazilites (see page 2 1 6) applied Greek philosophical concep­ tions to the interpretation of Islamic doctrines, al­ though the first formal philosopher is al-Kindi, who died some time after 870. Largely because of religious and political developments, the last important :\-Ius­ lim philosopher in the :\-Iiddle Ages is Ibn Rushd (Averroes) , who died at the end of the twelfth century. For the Jews, one can begin with Philo and end with Spinoza, but it is customary to begin with Saadia Caon in the tenth century and end with Albo in the fifteenth. We have again rather arbitrarily begun with Saadia and ended with Crescas, who died near the be­ ginning of the fifteenth century. It is not too long since the very proposal for a work of this kind would have provoked incredulity. The tradition of serious modem scholarship on medieval philosophy-:\1uslim and Jewish as well as Latin­ begins in the mid-nineteenth century with such schol­ ars as Prantl, Haureau, Renan, and \1unk; and the la­ bor of a hundred years has not eradicated the negative attitudes toward medieval figures popularized in the satires ofRabelais and Erasmus on the subtlety and disXI

XII

Introduction

putatiousness of the schoolmen, and in philosophical treatments such as Francis Bacon's contemptuous re­ jection of "contentious learning." Indeed, there is a derogatory value judgment implied in the very label­ ing of the period as the "middle" ages. Various forms of this expression were used during the Renaissance (media tempestas, 1469; media aetas, 1518; medium aevum, 1604), with the sense that this was the age be­ tween the more significant ages of antiquity and mod­ ern times. Those two ages contrast with the middle one in manifesting such civilized virtues as a sense of beauty, respect for personality, and freedom of thought. Few informed persons today would subscribe to the judgment that medieval cathedrals, illuminated man­ uscripts, and so forth, are ugly or barbaric, or would re­ fuse to recognize respect for personality of a high order in the great medieval saints; but the question of free­ dom of thought still sometimes serves as a deterrent to the appreciation of medieval philosophy. It is felt that since philosophy was the handmaiden of religion dur­ ing this period, it must have been servile, its problems raised and decided by theological authority rather than by autonomous reason. In which case, it was hardly philosophy at all. There would be little sense in denying the very close relationship of philosophy and religion during the period covered by this anthology. The question is whether that association really entails such woeful con­ clusions. To suppose that it does reflects a considerably oversimplified understanding of medieval thought. On the assumption of the total authority of scriptural revelation, one might presume that because of the dif­ ferences between the three major religions involved, there would be three independent philosophical tra­ ditions in the \1iddle Ages. But even superficial ex­ amination reveals a large area of common ground, even in topics sensitive to religious influence. For ex­ ample, Avicenna the \1uslim, \1aimonides the Jew, and Thomas Aquinas the Christian all present the proof for the existence of God which argues to the be­ ing of a necessary existent from the experienced fact of contingent existences. 'Ibis philosophical common ground consisted largely in the philosophical move­ ments of:\ eoplatonism and Aristotelianism, of which the former exercised an earlier influence and condi­ tioned the understanding of the latter. Thus, the ini-

tial perSIStmg interpretations of Latin Christianity were effected through :\eoplatonism, as is abundantly clear in the writings ofAugustine. Among the Jews this neoplatonic movement is evident in Ibn Gabirol. Among the Muslims, although there seems to have been no relatively pure :\eoplatonism, the under­ standing ofAristotle was from the beginning influenced by neoplatonic writings such as the spurious Theology of Aristotle. :\eoplatonism, with its emphasis on su­ persensible reality and its conception of the emana­ tion of all being from a single divine unity, lent itself more easily to philosophical interpretation of the reli­ gious conceptions of the immortality of the soul and the creation of the world than did Aristotelianism. In­ deed, Aristotle's doctrines that the soul is the form of the living body and that the thinking of the divine in­ tellect in some way activates the hierarchy of astro­ nomical and natural processes were reinterpreted along neoplatonic lines, yielding the views that the soul is an independent being bringing life and thought to the body and that the hierarchy of processes emanates from the activity of the divine intellect. Philosophers in all three traditions attempted to recover the true meaning of Aristotle behind such reinterpretations. The relation of religion to philosophy, then, de­ pends in part upon the philosophy involved. But it also depends upon the religion. All three scripturally de­ rived religions shared problems involving the doctrine of the creation of the world, but they differed in the ex­ tent of other stumbling blocks to philosophical reason. The Jews had certain problems about such matters as the election of Israel and the eternity of the Law, and the \1uslims were concerned as to whether the Qur'an as the word of God is created or eternal. But the Chris­ tians had a whole series of such problems, eventually classified as "mysteries," of which the doctrines of the Holy Trinity and the sacrament of the Eucharist may be taken as typical. The doctrine of the Trinity is that there is one God in three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, which seems to imply that God is one and three at once. The sacrament of the Eucharist, on one interpretation at least, involves the conversion of the eucharistic bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ-the process known as transubstantiation. This seems to imply that the very same set of sensible qual­ ities can, without alteration, characterize successively

Introduction two completely different substances. One can say, then, that in some ways Christianity represents a more for­ midable challenge to philosophy than does Islam or Judaism. In the light of these differences -Aristotelianism being less compatible with the scriptural religions than �eoplatonism, and Christianity being less com­ patible with philosophy than Islam and Judaism - the historical sequence ofthe i nterrelations ofthese move­ ments is quite interesting. Philosophy gained a foot­ hold among Christians through �eoplatonism, and Aristotelianism gained its foothold among Muslims and Jews after having some small impact on Byzantine thought. It was only after Muslim and Jewish thinkers had undertaken judicious interpretations of scriptures and of Aristotle that the two apparently least compati­ ble movements, i.e., Aristotelianism and Latin Chris­ tianity, came face to face. The task ofa Thomas Aquinas or Duns Scotus was thus in some ways more difficult than that of an Avicenna or �aimonides, except that the former could make use of the labors of the latter. In all three traditions, it should also be noted, there was philosophically informed criticism of efforts at the synthesis of religion and philosophy. AI-Ghazali among the �uslims, Halevi and Crescas among the Jews, and several of the fourteenth-century Latin fig­ ures carried out critiques of philosophical pretensions in this area. Since Judaism, Christianity, and Islam are all prac­ tical religions with concern for the goals of human life in this world and the next and for the function of po­ litical organization, ethical and political speculation formed an important part of medieval philosophical thought. Certain complexities parallel to those out­ lined above should be spelled out for these areas as well. Again we find some common ground; thinkers within the three traditions found it possible to adopt such notions as Aristotle's theory of the moral and in­ tellectual virtues, the Stoic account of law, and the neoplatonic doctrine of the ascent of the soul. But fur­ ther differences seem to have been more pronounced in these areas than in metaphysics or even psychology. For theological and historical reasons, Christian ethi­ cal and political doctrines were distinct from those of Judaism and Islam. One difference was determined by different conceptions of man. For Christian thinkers,

xm

man was fallen and hence required the grace of God for his salvation. So no matter how much Christian philosophers admired the temporal results of ethical and political doctrines, they considered such doctrines and results insufficient for man's salvation. By con­ trast, a number of �uslim and Jewish thinkers, espe­ cially those of Aristotelian leanings, described the good life as consisting in the development of moral and in­ tellectual virtues, and identified the afterlife with the incorporeal existence of the intellect, whether one for all mankind or many individual intellects. To be sure, scripture was required and its role was conceived in various ways: for ordaining the proper setting for the intellectual l ife, for making general laws specific, for making correct opinions available to all men and not merely philosophers, or for providing certain insights not otherwise obtainable. But for Jews and Muslims, the teachings of moral and political philosophy were not too far from those of religion. Christians differed from �uslims and Jews also in their evaluation of the state. Already the Gospels had distinguished between what is God's and what is Caesar's, and this distinction was to remain funda­ mental for a good part of medieval Christian thought. Whether Christian philosophers envisaged the state after the Augustinian fashion as merely ensuring a limited measure of temporal peace or whether they ac­ cepted the more inclusive functional account pre­ sented in Aristotle's Politics, it was evident that the temporal state was separate from the church and in some way subordinate to it. �uch of medieval politi­ cal life was marked by controversies concerning the respective powers of the church and state, and the var­ ious opinions on this issue are mirrored in philosoph­ ical developments. The distinction between the two realms was further emphasized by the separate devel­ opment of canon and civil law. Judaism and Islam, on the other hand, were religious laws wedded to a po­ litical community. For these religions, the law was brought by a legislative prophet; and the religiously determined state provides the best setting for the at­ tainment of the good life. In such a setting, an explicit and developed distinction between religious and civil law is inapplicable. It is interesting to note that per­ haps merely because of historical accident or perhaps because of doctrinal affinity, the central political doc-

XIV

Introduction

uments for Jews and :'vluslims were Plato's Republic and Laws, whereas after the reception of Aristotle, his Politics was the basic work for the Christians. It should also be noted that an exception to this description of the Christian situation can be found in the late medi­ eval movement sometimes described as "political Averroism." Proponents of this position, of whom Mar­ silius of Padua was the leading representative, set out to develop a philosophy of the state independent of theological teachings, even going so far as to see the clergy in its political role as a functionary of the state. One more difference between the three traditions is found in their approaches to the problem of the will. Though most thinkers of the three groups (with the possible exception of the Muslim Ash'arites and Crescas the Jew) affirmed the freedom of human acts, Christians emphasized the will more than did Jews and :'vluslims. For example, the question whether the act of intellect or that of will is more fundamental, which became an important point of difference be­ tween Thomists and Scotists, seems to have no precise analogue in Jewish and :'vluslim thought. In the latter traditions, willing is often viewed simply as the deci­ sion-making act of the intellect, rather than as a dis­ tinct act of a distinct faculty, as it was among the Latins. With all these complications, it is l ittle wonder that this very problem of the relation of religion to philos­ ophy was given extensive philosophical attention in the :'vliddle Ages. Thinkers confronted by apparent in­ consistencies between revelation or tradition and this or that philosophy did not merely adjust the immedi­ ately offending positions. They probed deeper into the very nature of the confrontation itself and con­ ceived a variety of interpretations of it, ranging from the view that religion is simply true philosophy to the view that the two have strictly nothing to do with one another. The attitude that there could be no genuine philosophy as a handmaiden to religion thus reflects only one of the several types of philosophy involved, only one of the several versions of religion, and one of the more extreme solutions to the problem of the pos­ sible relationships. There is another way to approach this issue. As un­ derstood by Hegel and others, philosophy as the hand­ maiden to religion would presumably be theology-

the attempt, for example, to interpret the religious dogma about the Eucharist by means of Aristotle's dis­ tinction between substance and quality. This kind of thing comes in for attack both from many philoso­ phers and from a long tradition among the devout, who cannot see what Athens has to do with Jerusalem, or subtle disputation with simple piety. But these prop­ erly theological subjects hardly exhausted the atten­ tion of medieval philosophers. Such subjects stand at one end of a spectrum. _:-..:ext to them are the problems of what was called natural theology, of which the ex­ istence of God is a good example. This problem has been included in the philosophical canon since the days ofXenocrates and has perhaps never been so thor­ oughly discussed as in the :'vliddle Ages. We should not suppose that the medievals merely sought more or less ingenious ways to ratify a foregone conclusion; the var­ ious proofs were carefully criticized, and the outcome for many critics was that God's existence could not be proved at all by philosophical methods. ;--;ext to the topics of natural theology we may place certain issues which, while perhaps not exactly generated by scrip­ tural revelation, certainly were pursued intensively be­ cause of it. Typical of these are the immortality of the soul and the freedom of the will, and one can hardly exaggerate the intricacy of medieval treatments of these problems. Then there are the classic or standard philosophical problems concerning being, knowl­ edge, the good, and so forth. Again we should not be misled by an unrealistic picture of the :'vliddle Ages as a time of monolithic harmony. Rationalism and em­ piricism, teleological and deontological ethical theo­ ries, and a great variety of metaphysical positions were developed. And finally, there are subjects such as logic and the natural sciences, which seem to be quite re­ mote from theology. The :'vliddle Ages is one of the great eras in the history of logic, along with antiquity from the rise of the Sophists to the decline of Greek Stoicism, and the modern world from the second half of the nineteenth century. Philosophers in all three traditions wrote summaries or commentaries con­ cerning Aristotle's Organon, and a few in the Latin tra­ dition were genuinely creative logicians. As for the natural sciences, one of the great triumphs of modern scholarship is to have uncovered the surprising extent and depth of medieval advances. Once again, then,

Inbuduchon the view that there could be no genuine ph ilosophy in such a time ignores a ll b ut a small segment of the avai lable evidence. It is true that a characteristic feature of much medi­ eval thought is its architectonic qua lity, its systematic interconnectedness, so that theological commitments had their impact on ph ilosoph ical subjects. But it i s equa lly true that po sitions taken elsewhere o n the spectrum o utlined above had their impact on theol­ ogy. Indeed, the compla int of Erasmus and company was not that phi lo sophy had been theologized b ut that theology had been made nee dle ssly subtle by its sub­ jection to technica l logical analysis and metaphysical refinements. ;..;ow that subtlety has once again be­ come an intellectual virtue, perhaps that complaint can be set a si de. Even as a handmaiden, then, philos­ ophy had much to say and no mean in fluence on her mistress. Erasmus and Rabela is also complained of the con­ tentious character of the phi lo sophy o f the schools, a comp laint which reached the dignity of a position in Francis Bacon's assumption that the schoolmen aimed merely at victory rather than at truth. This is a serious charge, and sho uld be investigated, for certa in features o f medieval thought may well be misunder­ stood in this way. We have here to do with the Latin tradition, for, lacking an analogue to the Renai ssance, neither Muslim s nor Jews were expo sed to this kind o f charge. In the Latin tradition, the method o f in struc ­ tion a n d one of the most prominent vehicles o f e x­ pre ssion in the Mid dle Ages wa s the system of the disputation. A master proposed a problem , often citing authorities on both sides of the issue. A student took his position and stated his arguments, to which the ma ster or another student replied. Further di stinctions were drawn and eventually the master re solved the que stion. Th is method, like most others, ha s its vices; h uman aggressivene ss, for in stance, is sorely tempted by debate. But thi s method prod uced little literary or personal flouri sh covering over con fusion or fallacy, and it gave very little scope to rhetoric. One sho uld not suppose that ph ilo sophers trained in e xpre ssing them­ selve s in this way were more sophistical or qua rrel­ some than those working through ways less subject to immediate and p ub lic rejoinder. Another point o f some relevance to Bacon's accusation h a s to d o with

xv

the situation in the later Middle Age s. The intensi fi­ cation of critica l rigor at thi s time led to the demotion of many previously accepted beliefs to the level o f probab ilities. F urthermore, it was shown that some positions for which ph ilosophical arguments could be constructed were counter to the faith. The se posi­ tion s had then to be maintained as what reason would be lieve on the natural evidence of the senses i f God had not miraculously made things different. There wa s thus a good deal of phi losophica l thought about positions which the phi losophers could not honestl y cla im to be true. One may suspect that the sophi sti­ cation of this situation eluded the critic s, who saw in this determination of less-than-conclusive gro unds for be lief only sophi stry. But to evaluate different kin ds o f evi dence i s not t o have some e n d i n view other than truth . There remains one more misconception that sho uld be corrected. This is the view that, regardless of any range of i ssues di sc ussed, the domination o f re­ ligion over phi lo sophy d uring thi s period was perni­ cious beca use it inculcated a habit of relying on authorit y, whether scriptural or ph ilosoph ical. As the criticism has been concisely put, medieval thought, inc luding philosophy, was e xegetical in character. Certainly when one goes to a typ ical medieval phi lo­ soph ical work, one finds quotation s identified as "au­ thorities." But in the same writing, the ph ilo sopher o ften proves his point "by reason as well as authority." And even i f the philo sopher seems to be following an authority, he had to find rea son s for following thi s one rather than another. The medievals were aware of thi s, and the slogan "Authority has a nose of wax" (and hence can be turned wherever one wishes) is attrib­ uted to several medieval figures and seems to have been something of a commonplace. One sho uld ask, then, just how these so-called authorities function in the actual argument, keeping in mind the difference between using a text to settle an i ssue, to delineate a problem by presenting representative positions, to se rve as a point of departure for finer di scrimination s, or simply to serve, as do many modern footnotes, a s a reference to fu ller disc ussions elsewhere. Nor sho uld the reader be unaware of medieval ingenuity in p ut­ ting a favorable interpretation on a text whose obvious se nse one might wish to avoid.

XVI

Introduction

It would indeed be surprising if philosophical work of a high caliber had not been accomplished during the Middle Ages. For hundreds of years in all three traditions self-criticism and development were contin­ uous; and just because of the involvement with theol­ ogy in a deeply religious period, the finest intellectual talent was drawn into the field. Much of what was done is of genuine philosophical interest to a variety of modern points of view: existentialists, for instance, may find in the distinction of natures and wills a con­ ception to deepen their concern for the irreducibility of freedom; metaphysicians may find new perspec­ tives in the vast literature on essence and existence and on the problem of individuation; semanticists should certainly find suggestions in the equally vast l iterature on universals and on problems of truth and reference. And medieval philosophy must now be accorded an essential place in the history of philosophy. As recent

scholarship has shown, humanist antischolasticism may have succeeded in popularizing attitudes of re­ jection, but it hardly accomplished a genuine h iatus in the history ofthought. The commonplaces of medi­ eval philosophy abound in those very philosophers of the seventeenth century who are so forceful in dis­ avowing their immediate past. The editors wish to emphasize that this anthology is not intended as a substitute for a full-fledged history of medieval philosophy. Our policy has been to allot space to major figures at the expense of minor ones, and, of course, not everyone will agree with our judg­ ment in this matter. We have also kept the introduc­ tions to a minimum so that more space could be given to the selections. For fuller background and interpre­ tation, the reader should consult one or more of the excellent histories of this period; we have provided an introductory bibliography to aid in this further study.

EARLY MEDIEVAL CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY

Looking back at the origins of Christian philosophy from the perspectives of the dialectical subtleties of the twelfth century, or the magisterial syntheses of the thir­ teenth, or, again, the critical reactions ofthe fourteenth, it is difficult to realize that when Christian philosophy began, Christians formed a small minority in the pagan world, many theological concepts still required clarifi­ cation, and the question "\Vhat does Athens have to do with Jerusalem?" had not yet been answered. Under these circumstances it became the task of early Chris­ tian thinkers to defend the Christian faith against the ar­ guments of pagans, to give precision to �ew Testament doctrines and refute heretical interpretations, and to in­ vestigate how Christian teachings are related to philo­ sophical truths. From these rather humble foundations arose the great intellectual edifices of later times. By necessity, the inquiry into the origins of Chris­ tian philosophy must begin with the 0:ew Testament itself. Certain philosophical terms occurring in the Pauline writings (e.g., l Cor. l :24) and the doctrine of the Logos in the Gospel according to John pose the question whether the canonical writings manifest the influence of Greek philosophical ideas. Some Protes­ tant scholars of an earlier generation answered this

question by distinguishing between the pure Christian teachings contained in the synoptic Gospels and later philosophical accretions, while their Catholic coun­ terparts, though admitting the philosophical sound of certain :\'ew Testament terms, warned against mistak­ ing form for substance. Speaking for the former group, Adolf Harnack wrote: . . . the most important event which ever hap­ pened in the history of Christian doctrines took place at the beginning of the second century, on the day when Christian Apologists laid down the equation: "The Logos is Jesus Christ." By contrast, Etienne Gilson described the Catholic view by stating: . . . [the] position which is generally held by Catholic historians does not deny the important part played by Greek philosophy in the formu­ lation and interpretation of the Christian dog­ mas, but it stresses the fact that what was thus formulated and interpreted always remained

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Early .'vfedieval Christian Philosophy th e auth entic teaching of Chri st, which has come to us whole through th e Catholic theo­ logical tradition. In thi s . . . view not a single Greek phi lo sophic notion, taken precisely a s phi losophical, has ever become a constitutive element of Christian faith as such.1

Whatever the solution to the scriptural problem, it i s clear that by th e second c entury-wh en the patri stic p eriod began - Ch ri stian phi losophy, or at least its precursor, was on its way. From that c entury on, G reek and Latin Apologi sts and Fathers, som e of whom had b een pagan philosophers b efore th eir conversion, wrote in defen se of Chri stianity and in exposition of its doctrine. Though Ari stotelian, Stoic , and even mate­ ria list doc trines a re found in these writings, thei r pre­ vai ling ph ilosophica l tenor wa s P latonic. To di scover wh ether th e saving truth s of Chri stian­ ity are in any way related to th e resu lts of philosophi­ cal speculations was the most important philosophica l i ssu e of thi s formative p eriod. As was to b e expected, Chri stian thin kers quic kly a rranged th em selves into two groups. Though for both groups the Christian teachings were supreme, there were those who felt that philo sophy cou ld b e h elpful in their exposition, while there were others who saw faith and reason a s antagonistic. Among the Greek Apologi sts o f the sec ­ ond c en tu ry Ju stin \'tartyr vi ewed the study of phi los­ ophy positively, ho lding that "whatever things a re rightly said among a ll men, a re th e property of us Christians," while his stud ent Tatian, su spicious of philosophy, maintained that whatever was good within philosophy had been borrowed by it from sc riptu re. During th e same p eriod Ath enagora s noted an agree­ ment b etween certain Chri stian and philosophical teachings, while Hippolytu s saw in phi losophy the ori ­ gin of h eresies. Hippolytu s, together with his teacher lrenaeus, wa s also active in combating the teachings of gnostic s. Among th e Latin Apo logi sts (who include \'tinucius Feli x, Arnobius, and Lactantiu s), Tertullian is the one who is p robably the b est known. His oft­ repeated question, "What has Athen s to do with l. For both quotations, see E. Gil son, History ofChristian Philosophy in the Middle Ages, New York, 195 5, p. 5.

Jeru sa lem?" has been taken to place him squarely in the antiphi lo sophical camp. Ch ristian speculations took a somewhat more sub­ stantial form in th e writings of the so-ca lled Alexan ­ d rians. C lement ofAlexandria (c. I 5 0--sometime b efore 215 ), who devoted part of his efforts to the p ersuasion of unbeli evers, lauds G reek phi losoph ers for having shown man's need fo r a spi ritua l religion, and phi lo s­ ophy, for him, i s a good wi lled by God and communi­ cated by th e Logos to a ll. Ma king use p rimarily of Platonic , but a lso Aristotelian and Stoic, teachings (often as transmitted by Phi lo ), C lement undertook to transform simple faith into a rea soned b elief. In simi la r fa shion, O rigen ( c. l8 5 --c.2 5 4), who, like P lot­ inus, had studi ed under Ammonius Saccas, distin­ gui sh ed b etween th e literal and a llegorical sense of scripture; and he wa s th e first Chri stian thin ker to es­ tabli sh th e immateriality of God by means of phi lo­ sophica l arguments. Th e early fourth century b rought a turning point in the fortu n es of the Christian Church. Constantine now made Ch ristianity th e official religion of the Ro­ man Empire, and thi s recognition help ed to produce the politica l structure of the chu rch. At the same time, the Council of?\icea ( 325) fixed the conception ofthe Trinity by dec la ring the Son to be con substantia l with the Father-a doctrine th e Arians had d enied. The G reek theologians of th e fou rth c entury (the so-called Cappadocians) include Eusebius, Gregory of�azianz, Ba si l the G reat, and :\'em esius, but the most impor­ tant was G regory of :\'yssa. G regory wa s th e first who tried to find rationa l a rguments fo r a ll the teachings of th e chu rch (th e mysteries included), and his a ttempt wa s repeated later by An selm of Canterbury and Richa rd of St. Victor. H i s kind of P latoni sm, with its emphasi s on th e purification of th e human sou l and man's retu rn to God , in flu enced th e philo sophy of John Scottus Eriugena, as well as the mystical theol­ ogy of Bernard of C lairvaux. The Latin theo logians of the fourth c entury in­ clude \'ta rius Victorinus (the tran slator of P latonic writings) and Ambrose, but they were overshadowed by their "discip le," Augu stine ( 354-430). Interpreting Chri stian doctrines in the light of n eoplatonic teach ­ ings, Augu stine, i n writings often inten sely p ersona l and reflecting the h eat of intellectual battle, discussed

Early Medieval Christian Philosophy the great themes of truth, Cod, the human soul, the meaning of history, the state, and salvation, in a man­ ner that made him the greatest Father of the Latin Church. For over a thousand years to come there hardly appeared a Latin theological or philosophical work that did not invoke his authority, and Augustine remains a respected member of the philosophical pan­ theon of all times. Though that part of Christian philosophy known as the patristic age was to continue after the early fifth century, it was also beginning to draw to a close. Among Creek writers, Pseudo-Dionysius (a writer of the late fifth century whose works were attributed to Diony­ sius the Areopagite, a disciple of Paul), :vlaximus the Confessor (c. 5 8G--66 2), and John of Damascus (eighth century) were to influence later medieval thought, while among the Latins, Boethius (c.47 5-526), through his translations of Aristotelian works, his mathemati­ cal writings, and his theological treatises, was to become one of the schoolmasters of the later Latin world. Pseudo-Dionysius became influential through a variety of doctrines. Among them is his notion of a threefold theology according to which Cod is to be de­ scribed in positive, negative, and superlative terms. Pseudo-Dionysius views the world as proceeding from Cod (the supreme good) by way of "illumination," or, alternatively, creation is described by him as "theo­ phany" - Cod revealing Himself. In creating the world, Cod made use of prototypes, also called divine Ideas, volitions, and predestinations, and the created order possesses a hierarchical structure. Finally, the world not only emanated from Cod, but also flows back to Him. lbese great Dionysian themes (together with similar notions of :Ylaximus the Confessor) have their echoes in the later Latin world, and their influ­ ence may be gauged from the fact that John Scottus Eriugena, Hugh of St. Victor, Robert Crosseteste, Albertus Magnus, Bonaventure, and Aquinas com­ mented on Dionysian works. After the sixth century learning declined in the Latin world, and Christian philosophy lay dormant until Charles the Great (crowned emperor in 800), who decided that his political conquests should be paralleled by a revival of learning. To further what came to be called the Carolingian Renaissance, Charles brought foreign scholars to his court, chief

3

among them Alcuin (7 3 0-804), an English master. In exaggerated but nevertheless significant fashion, a ninth-century chronicler said of him, "Alcuin's teach­ ing was so fruitful that the modern Cauls, or French­ men, became the equals of the Ancients of Rome and Athens." Charlemagne's greatest contribution to the ad­ vancement of learning was the establishment of schools. Prior to his time education had been private, but he now decreed that it should be the concern of established schools. In a famous capitulary he pro­ claimed that . . . in every bishop's see, and in every monastery, instructions shall be given in the psalms, musi­ cal notation, chant, the computation of years and seasons, and in grammar . . . 2 The schools resulting from Charlemagne's effort are divisible into three kinds. There was, fi rst of all, the Palatine school connected with the royal court. Its pupils were at first drawn from court circles, but other students were admitted later on. lben there was the episcopal or cathedral school, which, directed by a bishop or master, was largely for those destined for the priesthood . But by far the most important and endur­ ing was the monastic school, which conducted classes for the younger members of the monastic community as well as for students coming from without. So im­ portant were the monastic schools that the two cen­ turies after Charlemagne have been described as the monastic (or Benedictine) centuries. Important as the revival of learning was, the cur­ riculum of the new schools was modest by later stan­ dards. Besides the Bible and the writings of the Fathers (particularly for those who planned to enter the priest­ hood), the trivium (grammar, dialectic, and rhetoric) and the quadrivium (arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music) formed the major areas of study. However, until about the year 1000 the quadrivium was in eclipse and, of the trivium, grammar (which included

2. Cited by David Knowles, The Evolution of Medieval Thought, London, 1962, p. 72. Knowles' work contains a fine summary of the state of education during this period.

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Early _\1edieval Christian Philosophy

literature) and rhetoric were the primary disciplines. From the eleventh century on, dialectic became cen­ tral and exercised considerable influence on theology. :\'o major revision of the curriculum occurred until the introduction of Aristotle's physical and metaphys­ ical works beginning in the late twelfth century. John Scottus Eriugena (c.800-c877), the major figure of the period sometimes described as pre­ scholastic, fused Christian and neoplatonic teachings into a metaphysical system in the grand manner. But Eriugena was to remain without successors, and Christian philosophy after his time developed in an unspectacular fashion. Wars, invasions, the division of the empire, and the decline of the Carolingian dy­ nasty were not conducive to the advancement of Charlemagne's educational vision. Though learning continued (particularly in the Benedictine monaster­ ies), no major philosopher or theologian was to appear until Anselm of Canterbury ( 1 0 3 3 - 1 1 09) who, fol­ lowing Augustine, defended a Christian neoplatonic position. Anselm wrote on such topics as God, divine attributes, creation, knowledge, and will, but among philosophers, he will probably always be remembered for formulating what Kant later called the "ontologi­ cal proof' for the existence of God. Though the eleventh and twelfth centuries mani­ fested varied philosophical and theological interests, there is a sense in which the problem of universals was the major issue of the period. Using as their basic text a passage from Porphyry's Isagoge, as transmitted and commented upon by Boethius (see page 100), philosophers inquired whether genera and species exist only in the mind or in reality; and if the latter, whether they exist in individual substances or in sep­ aration from them. In answer to this question a spec­ trum of positions developed, ranging from realists, who affirmed the independent existence of universals (in the manner of Platonic Ideas), to nominalists, who held that universals were mere names. These dialecti­ cal speculations, it should be noted, were not mere

logical exercises, but, in the absence of Aristotle's psy­ chological and metaphysical writings, they became the only means for solving an important philosophical question. The outstanding dialectician, and for that matter, the outstanding philosopher of the twelfth century was Peter Abelard who, in writings marked by logical sub­ tlety, contributed to the discussion of the problem of universals, to ethics, and to the development of the scholastic method. The twelfth century also saw a vital Platonic move­ ment whose center was the school of Chartres. Char­ acterized by a great admiration for the accomplish­ ments of antiquity, Chartres became a great center of humanistic studies. But Chartres also manifested a marked interest in natural philosophy and science. Plato and Boethius were the major philosophical au­ thorities used, but the writings of Hippocrates, of Galen, and of Arabic physical and medical authors were among the works studied. Though Aristotle was considered inferior to Plato, it was at Chartres that the "new logic" (see page 1 0 1 ) was first received and that Aristotle's physical writings made their first appearance. As was to be expected from the Platonic orientation of the school, its members defended the real existence of universals. Among the masters of Chartres and those who followed the spirit of the school are to be numbered Adelard of Bath, Thierry ofChartres, Clarenbaud ofArras, William of Conches, Gilbert de Ia Porree, John of Salisbury, and, finally, Alan of Lille. In bringing this review of early medieval Christian philosophy to a close, brief mention should be made of the mystical movement of the twelfth century. Bernard of Clairvaux, rejecting the speculations of Abelard and Gilbert de Ia Porree, sought the good life in mystical experience and contemplation, desiring only "to know Jesus and Jesus crucified." At the same time, masters of the school of St. Victor attempted to fuse dialectical and mystical teachings.

Au gustine, 3 54-4 3 0

Augustine, the greatest of the Fathers of the Western Church, was the outstanding and most influential Christian :'\ieoplatonist. H is teachings dominated Christian thought until the rise of Aristotelianism in the early thirteenth century; he also influenced the Christian Aristotelians, and Augustinianism remained a major intellectual movement throughout the rest of the Middle Ages and beyond. Some of his doctrines had a formative influence on the development of modem philosophy (e.g., Descartes) , and his theolog­ ical views guided the Protestant reformers. Like his personal life, so Augustine's writings were marked by a passionate quest for certain truth, giving to the theory of knowledge an important place in his thought. Well aware of the skeptical critique of per­ ception, Augustine nevertheless affirms that we have some measure of reliable knowledge about the physi­ cal world. Perception for him is not simply the passive reception of sense impressions by bodily organs, but all sensations are combined with rational judgments of some kind. One object is perceived to be more beautiful than another by reference to some absolute standard of beauty, and one line is said to be straighter than another by reference to some absolute standard of straightness. "To sense," Augustine states in lan­ guage having a Platonic ring, "does not belong to the body, but to the soul through the body." He also said that "the soul gives something of its own substance in forming the images of bodies," a position to which he was committed by his acceptance of the fundamental neoplatonic principle that the lower does not affect the higher. Far more significant than knowledge of the physi­ cal world is knowledge of God and the human soul.

"God and the soul," Augustine writes, "that is what I desire to know. :\othing more? Nothing whatever." .\1an gains knowledge of God and his soul by looking inward, not by examining the outside world. Search­ ing within, man finds that his own existence is a most certain truth. For even if, as the skeptics argue, I may be deceived when I think I know, I still must exist in order to be deceived. But not only my own existence is certain; it is equally certain that I am alive and that I understand. Knowledge, in the true sense of the term, is knowl­ edge of immutable Ideas, not knowledge of changing substances within the world. Accepting this Platonic notion, Augustine develops it in his own manner. The Ideas, he holds, do not exist in some "place" or intel­ ligence of their own, but in the mind of God; and they are not known through recollection, but by divine il­ lumination. But Augustine did not develop these doc­ trines fully in his works and, as a result, a variety of interpretations of his illuminationism arose. �o matter which interpretation one is inclined to follow, it is clear that Augustine has in mind knowl­ edge that can be acquired by all men, not some mys­ tical intuition produced by a special act of divine grace. :Moreover, it appears that man knows the Ideas as separate from God. That is, it is not the case that man in knowing the Ideas knows the essence of God. Again, it does not seem to follow from Augustine's de­ scription that God infuses the Ideas directly into the human mind or that there exists within the mind an Agent Intellect such as Aquinas posits later on. As some historians have suggested, it is perhaps best to let Augustine's metaphor of illumination carry the bur­ den of his argument. As sunlight makes perceptible

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Early 'vfedieval Christian Philosophy

objects visible to the human eye, so divine illumina­ tion makes truths, and especially necessary truths, in­ telligible to the human mind. Illuminationism, it should be noted, became extremely important in the psychological and epistemological theories of later medieval times. The search for truth finds its goal in God, who is Truth. As the source of truth, He is the internal teacher who, whenever man understands, teaches him the truth. For Augustine, God is the triune God of Christi­ anity, who is best known through scripture and the teachings of the church. At the same time, the world and human nature contain evidence that He exists. Au­ gustine offers a number of arguments for the existence of God, but they are more like guideposts directing the mind to God than demonstrations in the manner of Aristotelian proofs that a prime mover or fi rst cause ex­ ists. Augustine uses arguments taken from the order ap­ parent in the world and from "the agreement of all"; but by far his favorite seems to be the argument from truth. It is evident, this argument proceeds, that human beings know some truth. But it is also clear that human truth, being "yours" and "mine," is partial and change­ able. Human truth thus points toward a Truth that is total and immutable, and this Truth is God. God, for Augustine, is the highest being- perfect, eternal, and unchangeable. :\one of the Aristotelian categories apply to Him, and He is perhaps best de­ scribed by propositions stating what He is not. But God is not the neoplatonic One causing the emana­ tion of the world through the necessity of its own na­ ture. Instead, He is the God of scripture who in his infinite goodness freely decided to create a world out of nothing. This world is good, manifesting measure, form, and order; and any evil appearing in it is the privation of some good, not the creation of some in­ dependent principle of evil. God created the world ac­ cording to His wisdom, implanting within its matter "seminal reasons" (an adaptation of the Stoic /ogoi spermatikoi, which are germinal principles from which all things develop in the course of time). The world is arranged according to number, which is the basis for the intelligibility of the natural order. This mathematical understanding of the world be­ came one of the characteristic features of Augustini­ anism, contributing in some measure to the rise of

mathematical science. W ithin the natural world the highest being is man, whom God created as a unitary being. But Augustine frequently uses Platonic lan­ guage in describing man as an immaterial soul inher­ ing in a body, and he defines the soul as "a special substance, endowed with reason, adapted to rule a body." The man whom God created was endowed by Him with all human perfections, including a free will. :\o other doctrine is more central to Augustine's moral and political thought than that of human freedom and the concomitant doctrine of love. Rational judgments, to be sure, frequently influence human conduct, but human actions are determined by the free decision of the will and by the objects of love toward which the will is directed. Describing human nature as man's "weight," Augustine writes, "My weight is my love!" There are two primary objects of love for the human will. Man may direct his will toward God, in the pos­ session of whom in love and understanding the great­ est human happiness consists, or man may turn in pride toward himself and the world beneath him. In thus falling away from God, he does evil. It is not God who is the author of moral evil, but man himself. To guide man in his moral decisions, God instilled within him by a kind of moral illumination the immutable principles of the eternal law. However, man existing in the here and now is not the perfect man created by God, but fallen man blem­ ished by original sin. According to the Christian teach­ ing on which Augustine's doctrine rests, Adam, the first man, sinned by disobeying God's command. As a result, his intellect was dimmed by ignorance, his will weakened by concupiscence, and he became subject to death. These blemishes were transmitted by hered­ ity to the descendants of Adam, so that all men born after him were born with a defective nature. But God did not leave all mankind to eternal damnation. In His mercy, expressed in the Incarnation, God freely se­ lected certain men to be saved. These theological doc­ trines modified Augustine's philosophical account of human freedom. Man, to be sure, retained his free­ dom of choice even after the Fall; but liberty, the abil­ ity not to sin, was gone. Only the grace of God can restore to man his original liberty; and it is the Chris­ tian's hope, according to Augustine, that those saved, though free, no longer will be able to sin.

Augustine, 3 54-430 A social nature was among the perfections granted by God to man, and this nature is retained in some measure even after the FalL Hence, all men live i n families and organize states for the attainment of tranquility and peace. But just as natural morality is in­ adequate for the attainment of ultimate human hap­ piness, so is the temporal political state insufficient for bringing eternal peace. Like happiness, peace can only come through God's grace, even though tempo­ rary peace and partial justice can exist even in the pa­ gan state. God's division of mankind into the saved and the damned brings about the existence of two realms or cities. The C ity of God consists of those who, manifesting love of God, are saved. The City of Man embraces those who, manifesting love of self, are damned. These two cities, it should be noted, are not to be confused with the church and states existing here and now. Augustine was born in the small city of Tagaste i n the province o f '\"umidia (modern Tunisia) on �o­ vember 1 3 , 3 54. H is father, Patricius, was a pagan; his mother, �onnica, a Christian. Augustine was reared as a Christian by his devout mother; but, in accor­ dance with the custom of the times, he was not bap­ tized as a child. Having received his early education in his native city and nearby �adaura, he went to study rhetoric at Carthage. This was in 370, the year his father died having previously become a Christian. Carthage was a metropolitan center, and there Au­ gustine became acquainted with the many intellectual currents abroad. He soon forsook Christian teachings as illogical and barbaric and became a �anichean. �ani (2 1 5-279) had taught that the world is governed by the two principles of light, or good, and darkness, or eviL In these teachings Augustine found an answer to the problem of evil that was to trouble him much of his life. At Carthage he took a mistress with whom he had a son named Adeodatus (his interlocutor in The Teacher). Upon completion of his studies, Augustine returned for a short time to Tagaste and then settled in 374 in Carthage, where he opened a school of rhet­ oric. He immersed himself in the study of �anichea­ nism, but doubts began to grow in his mind. In 383 a �anichean bishop named Faustus came to Carthage; and when Faustus was unable to resolve those doubts, Augustine began to abandon �anicheanism. Shortly

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thereafter we find Augustine in Rome, and then in Mi­ lan, at that time a more important center than Rome itself. In 3 84, Augustine was appointed municipal pro­ fessor of rhetoric there, and was perhaps moving to­ ward still higher office. During this period he finished with :'vlanicheanism and was influenced by the skep­ ticism of the New Academy. But he was not to remain a skeptic for long. In :'vfilan he heard the sermons of Bishop Ambrose and began reading neoplatonic writ­ ings (among them some of Plotinus' Enneads), newly translated by :'vfarius Victorinus. These studies taught him that true reality is spiritual, not material, as the �anicheans taught, and that evil is not an independ­ ent principle, but a lack of good. Though he admired the 0-'eoplatonists, their doctrines did not satisfy his spiritual quest. Having read scripture, especially the writings of Paul, he gained the conviction that not phi­ losophy, but only the grace of God can provide salva­ tion for fallen man, a conviction that was strengthened through conversations with Simplicianus, an old priest, and Ponticianus. Augustine's spiritual crisis came to a head when after the famous scene in the gar­ den when he heard a child's voice chant "take up and read, take up and read" (Confessions 8. 1 2), he decided to become a Christian. On Holy Saturday of 3 86, af­ ter a year's retreat at Cassiciacum, he was baptized by Ambrose. He decided to return to Africa, but his mother's death at Ostia delayed the journey. The year 387 found Augustine in Tagaste, where he founded a small religious community with friends. In 3 9 1 he was ordained priest; in 395, auxiliary bishop; and in 396, when Valerius, the bishop of Hippo, died, Augustine was chosen to fill his place. Teacher, philosopher, and theologian until then, Augustine now became pastor of his Hock, a task calling for the administration of educational and even judicial functions in addition to religious responsibilities. As bishop he also fought in­ cessantly against heretics, denouncing their doctrines in numerous writings and securing their condem­ nations by church councils. Among these were the dualistic :'vlanicheans, the Pelagians, who placed in­ sufficient emphasis on divine grace in human salva­ tion, and the Donatists, who held that only a priest free of sin was fit to administer the sacraments. Augustine died on August 28, 430, while the Vandals were at the gates of H ippo.

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Early .'vtedieval Christian Philosophy

Augustine was an unusually productive writer who left behind a veritable library of works. He wrote out of the depths of his spiritual struggles and the exalta­ tions of his spiritual victories. M. C. D'Arcy put it well when he stated that Augustine had the power "of mak­ ing what is intensely personal pass into the universaL" H is writings abound in biblical citations and refer­ ences and allusions to Latin l iterature, and his rhetor­ ical training shines through every page of his works. Even those who do not share his religious fervor re­ spond to his eloquence in the Confessions, a work that has become a classic of world literature. Though he did some writing during the teaching years at Carthage, Augustine's literary career began during the retreat at Cassiciacum. During that year ( 3 8 5-386) he wrote his attack on the academic skeptics, Against the Academics (Contra Academicos), On the Happy Life (De beata vita), and On Order (De ordine). Within the short space of two years (386-388) there followed On the Immortality ofthe Soul (De immortalitate animae), Soliloquies, On Free Choice of the Will (De libero ar­ bitrio voluntatis), and On the Quantity of the Soul (De quantitate animae). Between his return to Africa and his ordination as priest (388--3 9 1 ) he wrote The Teacher (De magistro) and On the True Religion (De vera religione), and he completed On Music (De mu­ sica). Most ofAugustine's major works were written af­ ter his ordination as bishop. Between that time and his death he wrote On Christian Doctrine (De doctrina Christiana), Confessions, On Nature and Grace (De natura et gratia), On the Trinity (De Trinitate), On the Soul and Its Origin (De anima et eius origine), The City of God (De civitate Dei), and the Enchiridion. Of special interest are his two books of Reconsiderations

(Retractationes), which contain Augustine's critical review of his writings and are important for fixing the chronology of his works. To this impressive l ist must be added his numerous shorter works, his biblical commentaries, his sermons, and his letters. The following selections aim at presenting a cross section of Augustine's views. The first, The Teacher, contains his account of signification and one of the statements of his doctrine of illumination. The second selection, from On Free Choice of the Will, deals with his theory of knowledge and his early doctrine of the wilL Of special interest in it are his proof of the exis­ tence of God from truth and his account of the relation of divine foreknowledge to the freedom of the human wilL This selection is neatly balanced by one from the Reconsiderations in which he attempts to rebut the claim of the Pelagians that the views he expressed in On Free Choice of the Will put him on their side. After a brief passage from On the Trinity in which Augustine makes his case against skepticism, there are three se­ lections from the Confessions. In the first, Augustine re­ counts his theft of some pears, an act he finds worth discussing not because it was particularly wicked but because it was particularly puzzling. In the second, Augustine tells of his encounter with Platonism and re­ flects on the nature of good and eviL The third selec­ tion from the Confessions contains a brief account of creation and, after that, his famous discussion of the na­ ture of time. Finally, selections from The City of God contain some of the major aspects of his ethical and po­ litical doctrines. Marcus Yarra (116-27 B.C.), who is mentioned in these selections, composed a treatise On Philosophy, now lost; Book 19 of The City ofGod is our only source of information about that work.

1 . The Teacher! [The Purpose of Language] [ l . l ] Aucusn'-.'E. When we speak, what does it seem to you we want to accomplish? ADEODATUS . So far as it now strikes me, either to teach or to learn. AUGUSll'-.'E. I see one of these points and I agree with it, for it's clear that by speaking we want to teach. But to learn7 How? ADEODATUS. How do you suppose we learn, after all, if not when we ask questions? Aucusn'-.'E. Even then I think that we want only to teach. I ask you: do you question someone for any reason other than to teach him what you want [to hear]? AoEODATU S . You're right. AucusTI'-.'E. So now you see that we seek nothing by speaking except to teach. ADEODATU S . I don't see it clearly. If speaking is nothing but uttering words, I see that we do this when we're singing. Given that we often sing while we're

From Augustine, "Against the Academicians" and 'The Teacher," tr. Peter King (Indianapolis: Hackett Publish­ ing Company, 1 99 5 ). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

I. Augustine, Reconsiderations 1 . 1 2: "I wrote a work en­ titled The Teacher [in 3 89]. There it is debated, sought, and found that there is no teacher giving knowledge to man other than God. This is also in accordance with what is written by the Evangelist: Your teacher, Christ, is unique (:viatt. 2 3 : I0)." The brevity of Augustine's entry is remarkable. In Confessions 9.6. 1 4 he writes: "In our book entitled The Teacher, [Adeodatus] there speaks with me. You, Lord, know that all the thoughts put in there in the person of my interlocutor were his, though he was only sixteen years old. I have experienced many more won­ derful things in him at other times: I was in awe of his tal­ ents." This suggests that Augustine's love for his dead son may have prevented him from making any revisions to The Teacher.

alone, without anyone present who might learn, I don't think we want to teach anything. AucusTJ:-;E. Well, for my part I think there is a certain kind of teaching through reminding- a very important kind, as our discussion will itself bring out. Yet if you don't hold that we learn when we remem­ ber or that the person who reminds us is teaching, I won't oppose you. I now stipulate two reasons for speaking: to teach or to remind either others or our­ selves. We do this even when we're singing. Doesn't it seem so to you? ADEODATUS. :\'ot exactly. I would seldom sing to remind myself; I do it only to please myself. AucusTI:-; E . I see what you mean. But aren't you aware that what pleases you in a song is its melody? Since this melody can be either added to or taken away from the words, speaking is one thing and singing is another. There are [musical] songs on flutes or on the guitar, and birds sing, and we occasionally make some musical sound without words. This sound can be called 'singing' but can't be called 'speaking.' Is there anything here you would object to? ADEODATUS. :\'othing at all. [ 1 .2 ] AucusTJ:-;E. Then doesn't it seem to you that speaking is undertaken only for the sake of teaching or reminding7 ADEODATUS. It would seem so were I not troubled by the fact that we certainly speak while we're praying, and yet it isn't right to believe that we teach God or re­ mind H i m of anything. AuGUSTI�E. I dare say you don't know that we are instructed to pray "in closed chambers" 2 - a phrase that signifies the inner recesses of the mind -precisely because God does not seek to be taught or reminded by our speaking in order to provide us what we want. Anyone who speaks gives an external sign of his will by means of an articulated sound. 3 Yet God is to be

2. :viatt. 6:6. 3. As a technical definition of speaking, a necessary con­ dition is that an utterance be produced which is l iterally 9

10

Augustine, 3 54-430

sought and entreated in the hidden parts of the ra­ tional soul, which is called the 'inner man'; for He wanted those parts to be His temples. Have you not read in the Apostle:4 Do you not know thatyou are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells within you?

Christ dwells in the inner man. Didn't you notice in the Prophet:6 Speak in your hearts and be stricken in your bedchambers; offer up the sacrifice of justice, and hope in the Lord. Where do you think the "sacrifice of justice" is offered up but in the temple of the mind and in the bed­ chambers of the heart? What is more, one should pray where one should sacrifice. There is accordingly no need for speaking when we pray. That is, there is no need for spoken words- except perhaps to speak as priests do, for the sake of signifYing what is in their minds: not that God might hear, but that men might do so and by remembering might, with one accord, be raised to God. Do you hold otherwise? ADEODATUS. I agree completely. AuccsTI�E. Then doesn't it trouble you that when the supreme Teacher was teaching His disciples to pray, He taught them certain words?; In so doing,

'articulated'- expelled air in tentiona lly modulated by the muscles of the la ryn x, palate, tongue, and the like. This sets speaking apart from involuntary sounds, such as snoring or cries of pa i n; see On Christian Doctrine 2. 1 . 2. Articulated sounds are 'external signs' of somethi ng in­ ternal, namely, the will. .\1uch of the rest of The Teacher is devoted to exploring how a given sound can be a sign. 4. I Cor. 3 : 1 6. 5. Eph. 3 : 1 &- 1 7. 6. Pss. 4:5--6 (Vulgate) 4:4--5 (RSV). 7. The Lord's Prayer: Matt. 6:9-1 3 and Luke I I :2--4. =

what He seems to have done is precisely to have taught them how we ought to speak when we pray. 8 ADEODATUS. i\othing at all troubles me on that score. He taught them not the words but the things themselves by means of the words. With these words they remind themselves of Whom they should pray to and of what they should pray for, since they would be praying in the inner recesses of the mind, as men­ tioned [ l .Z]. AucusTI�E. You understand this correctly. Some­ one might object that, although we don't produce any sound, nonetheless we do 'speak' internally in the mind, since we think these very words. Yet I believe you're also aware that in 'speaking' in this way we do nothing but remind ourselves, since by repeating the words our memory, in which the words inhere, makes the very things of which the words are signs come to mind. ADEODATUS. I understand, and I go along with this.

[The J\'ature of S igns] [2.3] AucusTI�E. Then we are in agreement: words are signs. ADEODATCS. Yes. Auctsn�E. Well, can a sign be a sign if it doesn't signifY anything? ADEODATCS. It can't. AucusTI�E. Consider this line of verse:9 If nothing from so great a city it pleases the gods be left . How many words are there? ADEODATt;s. Thirteen.

8. Augustine discusses this extensively in his Commen­ tary on the Sermon on the ,\1ount 2. 3. 1 0-- 1 4. 9. Virgil, Aeneid 2.659: Si nihil ex tanta superis placet urbe relinqui, spoken by Aeneas to his father, Anchises, in reference to the imminent destruction of Troy Adeoda­ tus takes up the first three words in order, namely, si ('if), nihil ('nothing'), and ex ( 'from ' ) .

.

The Teacher AucusTI:\E. ADEODATU S . AucuSTI:\E.

Then there are thirteen signs? Yes. I believe you understand this line of

verse. Quite well, I think. AucusTI:\f:. Tell me what each word signifies. ADEODATI.JS. Well, I do see what 'if' signifies, but I don't know any other word by which it can be explained. AucUSTI:\E. At least you know where anything signified by this word would be. ADEODATlJS. It seems to me that 'if signifies doubt. ?\ow where is doubt but in the mind? AucusTI:\E. I accept that for now. Continue with the other words. ADEODATlJS. What else does 'nothing' signify ex­ cept that which doesn't exist? AucusTI :\ E . Perhaps you're right, but I'm hesitant to agree with you, because you granted above that there is no sign unless it signifies something [ 2 . 3 ] . Yet what does not exist can't in any way be something. Ac­ cordingly, the second word in this line of verse isn't a sign, because it doesn't signify anything. So we were wrong to agree either that all words are signs or that every sign signifies something. ADEODATUS . You're really pushing too hard. It's stupid to utter a word when we don't have anything to signify. Yet in speaking with me now I believe you yourself aren't making a sound pointlessly. Instead, you're giving a sign to me with everything that comes out of your mouth, so that I may understand some­ thing. Thus you shouldn't enunciate those two sylla­ bles ['no-thing'] when you speak if you don't signify anything with them! If you see that they are necessary for producing an enunciation, and that we are taught or reminded when they strike the ears, then surely you also see what I want to say but can't explain. AucusTI:\E. What then are we to do? Given that one doesn't see a thing and furthermore finds (or thinks oneself to have found) that it doesn't exist, shall we not say that this word ['nothing'] signifies a certain state of mind rather than the very thing that is nothing? ADEODATUS . Perhaps this is the very point I was trying to explain. AucusTI:\E. Then be the matter as it may, let us move on from here so that the most absurd thing of all doesn't happen to us. ADEODATUS.

ADEODATUS. AucusTI:\E.

II

Which is? If nothing holds us back, and we suf­

fer delays! ADEODATUS. This is ridiculous, and yet somehow I see that it can happen-or rather, I clearly see that it has happened. [2.4] AucusTI:\ E . We shall understand this kind of difficulty more clearly in due order, God willing. 10 :\ow return to that line of verse and try to explain, as best you can, what the other words in it signify. ADEODATl:S . The third word is the preposition 'from,' for which I think we can say 'out of.' AucuSTI:\E. I'm not looking for this, that in place of one familiar word you say another equally familiar word that signifies the same thing-ifreally it does sig­ nify the same thing; but for now let us grant that this is so. Surely if the poet had said 'out of so great a city' instead of 'from so great a city' and I were to ask you what 'out of signifies, you would say 'from,' since these words ['from' and 'out of] - that is, these signs­ do signify some one thing, as you think. I'm asking for that one thing itself, whatever it is, that is signified by these two signs. ADEODATUS. It seems to me that they signify some kind of separation with regard to a thing in which something had been. This ['something'] is said to be "from" that thing, whether that thing (a) does not con­ tinue to exist, as for example in this line of verse some Trojans were able to be "from" the city when it no longer existed; or it (b) continues to exist, as we say that there are traders in Africa "from" the city of Rome. At 'CUSTI :\ E . Even supposing that I grant you these claims and do not enumerate how many excep­ tions to your rule may perhaps be discovered, surely it's easy for you to notice that you have explained words by means of words. That is to say, you have ex­ plained signs by means of signs and familiar things by the same familiar things. I would like you to show me the very things of which these words are the signs, if you can. [ 3. 5] ADEODATl:S. I'm surprised that you don't know, or that you're pretending not to know, that what you

1 0 . See 8.22-8.24 below, where Augustine discusses the autonomous and referential use of signs.

12

Augustine, 3 54-430

want can't be done in my answer while we're engaged in discussion, where we can only answer with words. Furthermore, you're asking about things that, what­ ever they may be, surely aren't words - and yet you're also asking me about them with words! First raise the question without words, so that I may then answer un­ der that stipulation of yours. AucusTI'>;E. You're within your rights, I admit. But if when one says 'wall' I were to ask what this one­ syllable 1 1 word signifies, couldn't you show me with your finger? Then when you pointed it out I would straightaway see the very thing of which this one-syl­ lable word is a sign, although you used no words. ADEODATUS. I grant that this can happen only in the case of names that signify bodies, so long as the bodies themselves are present. AucusTI'>;E. Do we call color a body? Don't we instead call it a quality of a body? AnEODATUS. That's true. AucusTI'>;E. Then why can this too be pointed out with a finger? Are you also adding the qualities of bodies to bodies [in your proposal] , so that those qual­ ities too, when they are present, may nonetheless be taught without words? ADEODATUS. Well, although I said 'bodies,' I wanted all corporeal things- that is, all the things sensed in bodies - to be understood [in my proposal] . AucusTI'>;E. Consider whether you should make some exceptions even to this claim. AoEODATUS. Your warning is a good one ! I should have said 'all visible things' rather than 'all corporeal things.' I admit that sound, smell, flavor, weight, heat, and other things that pertain to the rest of the senses, despite the fact that they can't be sensed without bod­ ies and consequently are corporeal, nevertheless can't be exhibited through [pointing] a finger. AucusTI'>;E. Haven't you ever seen that men "con­ verse" with deaf people by gesturing? That deaf people themselves, no less by gesturing, raise and answer ques­ tions, teach, and indicate all the things they want, or at

I I. Literally, 'these three syllables,' referring to the sylla­ bles par-i-es of paries ('wall'). Here and elsewhere the number of syllables of Latin terms has been altered to fit the English translation.

least most of them? When this happens, they show us without words not only visible things, but also sounds and flavors and other things of this sort. Even actors in the theaters unfold and set forth entire stories without words - for the most part, by pantomime. ADEODATUS . I have nothing to say against this, ex­ cept that neither I nor even that pantomiming actor could show you without words what 'from' signifies. [ 3 .6] AucusTI'>;E. Perhaps you're right, but let's imag­ ine that he can. You do not doubt, I suppose, that any bodily movement he uses to try to point out to me the thing signified by the word ['from'] isn't going to be the thing itself but a sign [of the thing] . Accordingly, he too won't indicate a word with a word. He'll nonetheless still indicate a sign with a sign. The result is that this syllable '&om' and his gesture signify some one thing, which I should like to be exhibited for me without signifying. ADEODATUS. Who can do what you're asking, pray tel!? AucusTI'>;E. In the way in which the wall could [be exhibited] . ADEODATUS. :\ot even [the wall] can b e shown without a sign, as our developing argument has taught us. Aiming a finger is certainly not the wall. Instead, through aiming a finger a sign is given by means of which the wall may be seen. I see nothing, therefore, that can be shown without signs. At;GL'STI'>;E. What if I should ask you what walk­ ing is, and you were then to get up and do it? Would­ n't you be using the thing itself to teach me, rather than using words or any other signs? Am:ooxn;s . I admit that this is the case. I'm em­ barrassed not to have seen a point so obvious. On this basis, too, thousands of things now occur to me that can be exhibited through themselves rather than through signs: for example, eating, drinking, sitting, standing, shouting, and countless others. AucusTI'>;E. :\ow do this: tell me - i f l were com­ pletely ignorant of the meaning of the word ['walking'] and were to ask you what walking is while you were walking, how would you teach me? ADEODATUS . I would do it a little bit more quickly, so that after your question you would be prompted by something novel [in my behavior], and yet nothing would take place other than what was to be shown.

The Teacher AccusTI:\E. Don't you know that walking is one thing and hurrying another? A person who is walking doesn't necessarily hurry, and a person who is hurry­ ing doesn't necessarily walk. We speak of 'hurrying' in writing and in reading and in countless other matters. Hence given that after my question you kept on doing what you were doing, [only] faster, I might have thought walking was precisely hurrying-for you added that as something new- and for that reason I would have been misled. ADEODATUS. I admit that we can't exhibit a thing without a sign if we should be questioned while we are doing it. If we add nothing [ to our behavior], the per­ son who raises the question will think that we don't want to show him and that we are persisting in what we were doing while paying no heed to him. Yet if he should ask about things we can do, but when we aren't doing them, after his question we can point out what he's asking about by doing the action itself rather than by a sign. (That is, unless he should happen to ask me what speaking is while I'm speaking, namely because no matter what I say I must be speaking to teach him.) In this way I'll confidently teach him, until I make clear to him what he wants, neither getting away from the thing itself that he wanted to be pointed out nor casting about beyond the thing itself for signs with which I might show it. [4.7] AUGlSfl:\E. Very acute. See then whether we're now in agreement that the following things can be pointed out without signs: (a) things we aren't do­ ing when we are asked [about them] and yet can do on the spot; (b ) the very signs we happen to be 'doing' [when asked about them], just as when we speak we are making signs (and [the word] 'signifYing' is derived from this [activity ] ) . 1 2 ADEODATLS. Agreed.

1 2. And [the word] 'signifving' is derived from this [ac­ tivity]": de quo dictum est significare, literally, "from which signifying is so called." That is, the word 'signify­ ing' (significare) is derived from the activity of making signs (signa facere). "

I3

[ Fundamental Division of S igns] AucusTI:\E. Thus [ I ] when a question is raised about certain signs, these signs can be exhibited by means of signs. Yet [Z] when a question is raised about things that aren't signs, [these things can be exhibited] either [(a)] by doing them after the query [has been made] , i f they can be done, o r [(b)] b y giving signs with which they may be brought to one's attention. ADEODATUS. That's right.

[Discussion of Division [ l ] ] AucusTI:\E. Then in this threefold classification let us consider first, if you don't mind, the case in which signs are exhibited by means of signs. Are words the only signs? AoEODATlJS . .:\o. AucusTI:\E. Then it seems to me that in speaking we designate with words either (a) words themselves or other signs, such as when we say 'gesture' or 'letter,' for what these two words signifY are nonetheless signs; or (b) something else that isn't a sign, such as when we say 'stone' - this word is a sign because it signifies something, but what it signifies isn't necessarily a sign. Yet the latter kind of case, namely when words signifY things that aren't signs, isn't relevant to the part [of the threefold classification] we proposed to discuss. We have undertaken to consider the case in which signs are exhibited by means of signs, and in it we have dis­ covered two subdivisions, since with signs we teach or remind someone of either the same signs or other signs. Doesn't it seem so to you? ADEODATCS. That's obvious. [4.8] At;cuSTI:\E. Then tell me to which sense the signs that are words are relevant. ADEODATUS. Hearing. AucuSTI:\E. What about gestures? ADEODATUS. Sight. AuGUSTI:\E. Well, when we come upon written words, aren't they understood more accurately as signs of words than as words? After all, a word is that which is uttered by means of an articulated sound accompa­ nied by some significate. A sound, however, can be perceived by no sense other than hearing. Thus it is

14

Augustine, 3 54-430

that when a word is written, a sign is produced for the eyes, and by means of this (inscription] something that strictly pertains to the ears comes into the mind. ADEODATUS. I agree completely. AUGUSTI:-;E. I think you also agree that when we say 'name' we signify something. ADEODATUS. That's true. AUGUSTI:-;E. What then? ADEODATUS. Obviously, what each thing is called; for example, 'Romulus,' 'Rome,' 'virtue,' 'river,' and countless others. Aucus·n:-;E. Do these four names signify nothing? ADEODATUS . :\o, they each signify something. AucusTI:-;E. Is there any difference between these names and the things signified by them? AoEODATUS. There is a great difference. AucusTI:-;r:. I should like to hear from you what it is. AoEODATUS. Well, in the first place, the fact that the former are signs whereas the latter are not. AUGUSTI:-;E. Do you mind if we call things that can be signified by signs and yet aren't signs 'signifi­ able,' as we call things that can be seen 'visible,' so that we may discuss these things more easily from now on? ADEODATUS . �ot at all. AuGUSTI:-;E. Well, those four signs you cited a lit­ tle earlier [4.8] - ['Romulus,' 'Rome,' 'virtue,' 'river'] - aren't they signified by any other signs? ADEODATUS . I'm surprised you think I have al­ ready forgotten that we found written [inscriptions] to be signs of spoken signs [4.8). Acct:s-n:-;F. Tell me what the difference between them is. ADEODATt:S. That the former are visible whereas the latter are 'audible' - why don't you also allow this name, given that we allowed 'signifiable'' 1 3 AucusTI:-;E. I d o allow it, and I'm grateful [for the suggestion] . Yet I ask again: can't these four signs be signified by another audible sign, just as the visible signs you remembered?

ADEODATUS . I remember that this too was men­ tioned recently. I had answered that 'name' signifies something and put these four names under its signifi­ cation [4.8]. Furthermore, I know that both the former and the latter, if they are actually uttered by a sound, are audible. AucusTI:-;E. Then what's the difference between an audible sign and audible significates that in tum are signs? ADEODATUS. I see this difference between what we call a 'name' and these four names that we put un­ der its signification. The former is an audible sign of audible signs. The latter are audible signs, but not of signs: some arc audible signs of visible things (such as Romulus, Rome, and a river) and others are audible signs of intelligible things (such as virtue). [4.9] AucusTI:-;E. I accept and approve [your dis­ tinction). Yet do you know that all things that are ut­ tered by an articulated sound accompanied by some significate are called 'words'? ADEODATUS. I do. AucuSTI:-;E. Then a name is also a word when­ ever we see that it is uttered by an articulated sound accompanied by some significate. When we say that an eloquent man employs 'good words,' he surely is also employing names; when the slave in Terence replied to his aged master: 14

1 3. Adeodatus proposes coining the term 'audible' (au­ dibile), on a par with Augustine's earlier coinage 'signifi­ able.' See Ambrose, Noah 1 5 . 5 2: "Sight sees the visible

1 4. Terence, The LAdy ofAndros 204. Davos uses the for­ mula bona verba quaeso ironically to his master Sima, who is angrily threatening him with dire punishments and calling him names.

and the listener hears the audible."

Good words, if you please! the latter had also spoken many names. ADEODATUS. I agree. Auctsn:-;r:. Then you grant that with the one syl­ lable we utter when we say 'word' a name is signified as well, and so the former ['word'] is a sign of the lat­ ter [ 'name' ) . AoEODATUS . I d o grant this. AucusTI:-;E. I would like your answer on this point as well. 'Word' is a sign of 'name' and 'name' is a sign of 'river,' and 'river' is a sign of a thing that can

The Teacher be seen. You have already said what the difference is between this thing [the river] and 'river' (the sign of [the river] ). [You have also said what the difference is] between the sign ['river'] and 'name,' which is the sign of the sign ['river'] . :\ow what do you suppo�e is the difference between the sign of a name - which we found to be 'word' -and 'name' itself, of which ['word'] is the sign?1; AoEODATUS . I understand this to be the differ­ ence [between words and names ] . On the one hand, things signified by 'name' are also signified by 'word.' A name is a word, and thus [the name] 'river' is a word. On the other hand, not all the things signified by 'word' are also signified by 'name.' The 'if at the very beginning of the line of verse you mentioned, and the 'from' -we've come upon these matters after our lengthy discussion of the ['from'], guided by the argu­ ment- [the 'if and 'from'] are both words, but they aren't names. :'vlany such cases are found. Conse­ quently, since all names are words but not all words are Hames, I think it's obvious what the difference be­ tween 'word' and 'name' is- namely, [the difference] between the sign of a sign that signifies no other signs, and the sign of a sign that in turn signifies other signs. AUGUSTI�E. Don't you grant that every horse is an animal, but that not every animal is a horse? AoEODATUS. Who will doubt it? AUGUSTI�E. Then the difference between a name and a word is the same as the difference between a horse and an animal. Yet perhaps you're kept from agreeing by the fact that we also say 'word' [verbum ]16 I ;. This paragraph involves several ambiguities, includ­ ing some (deliberate') confusion of use and mention, that are difficult to preserve in translation. Augustine consid­ ers three cases: (i) 'word' signifies names, perhaps among other things: (ii) 'name' signifies the particular name 'river,' a mong other things; (iii) the particular name 'river' signifies this very river; e.g., the :--; i le, among other rivers. Now Adeoda tus has already explained (iii) and (ii): names are not to be confused with what they name, and a par­ ticular name is picked out by the general term 'name.' Therefore Augustine is asking Adeodatus about (i), that is, about the difference between words and names. 1 6 . The single Latin term verbum does duty for both En­ glish terms 'word' and 'verb.'

15

in another way, one in which it signifies things in­ flected by tenses, as for example 'I write, I have written' and 'I read, I have read': these are clearly not names. ADEODATUS . You have said precisely what was making me doubtful. AucusTI�E. Don't be troubled on that score. We do generally call 'signs' all those things that signify something - the condition we also found words to be in. Again, we speak of 'military banners' [signa mili­ taria ] 1 7 that are then named 'signs' in the strict sense, a condition to which words do not pertain. Yet if I were to say to you that just as every horse is an animal but not every animal is a horse, so too every word is a sign but not every sign is a word, I think you wouldn't hes­ itate to agree. ADEODATUS. :\ow I understand. I agree com­ pletely that the difference between word in general and name is the same as the difference between ani­ mal and horse. [4. 10] AucusTI�E. Do you also know that when we say 'an-i-mal,' this three-syllable name uttered by the voice is one thing and what it signifies is another? ADEODATUS. I have already granted this point for all signs and all things that are signifiable. AucusT"E. :\ow it doesn't seem to you that all signs signify something other than what they are, does it? For example, when we say 'an-i-mal,' this three-syl­ lable word in no way signifies the very thing that it it­ self is. ADEODATlJS. :\ot exactly. When we say 'sign,' not only does it signify the other signs, whatever they are, it also signifies itself, for it is a word, and certainly all words are signs. Auct;slT\E. Well, when we say 'word,' doesn't something of the sort happen in the case of this mono­ syllable? If evef)thing that is uttered by an articulated sound accompanied by some significate is signified by this monosyllable ['word'] , then ['word'] itself is in­ cluded in this class. AoEODATUS . That's true. Accusn�E. Well, isn't it likewise for 'name'? For ['name'] signifies names of all classes, and 'name' it-

1 7. The Latin term signum may refer to a banner or stan­ dard, as well as having the more general sense 'sign.'

Augustine, 354-430

16

self is a name o f neuter gender. 1 8 Alternatively, if I

nify everything that is uttered by an articulated sound

should ask you what part of speech a name is, could

accompanied by some significate. Accordingly, every

you answer anything but 'name' correctly? ADEODATUS. You're right. AUGUST!:\ E. Then there are signs that also signify themselves with the other things they signify.

name-and when we say

'name,' that too- is a word.

Yet not every word is a name, although when we say

'word' it is a name. [ 5 . 1 2] AucusTI:\E. Well, if anyone should say to you and prove that just as every name is a word, so too every

ADEODATUS. Yes. AUGUST!:\ E. Surely you don't think that when we say 'con-junc-tion' this three-syllable sign is this kind of

word is a name, will you be able to discover in what re­

sign, do you?

letters?

ADEODATUS. :\ot at all, because while ['conjunc­ tion'] is a name, the things it signifies aren't names.

respect at all.

spect they differ, apart from the differing sound of the Am:ODATUS. :\o. I don't think they differ in any

[ 5. 1 1 ] AucuSTI:\E. You have been properly attentive.

AucUSTI:\E. Well, if all things uttered by an artic­

:\ow see whether we find [two] signs that signify each

ulated sound accompanied by some significate are

other mutually, such that the former signifies the latter,

both words and names, but are words for one reason

while at the same time the latter signifies the former.

and names for another reason, will a name and a word

This three-syllable word (when we say

differ at all?

'con-junc-tion')

and the words signified by ['conjunction'] (when we

Am:oDATUS. I don't understand how that could be.

say

'if,' 'or,' 'for,' 'surely,' 'unless,' 'therefore,' 'since,' and

AuccSTI:\"E. At least you understand this: every­

similar words) are not related to one another in this

thing colored is visible and everything visible is col­

way. "The reason for this is that these words are signified

ored, even though these two words ['colored' and

by that one three-syllable word

'visible'] signify distinctly and differently. ADEODATUS. I do understand this.

[ 'con-junc-tion'], al­

though it isn't signified by any of them.

Am:oDATUS. I see, but I want to know which signs do signify each other mutually.

AUGUSTI:\E. Then don't you know that when we 'name' and 'word' we are saying two words?

say

ADEODATUS. I know that. Auct:STI:\E. Well, don't you know that when we say

'name' and 'word' we are saying two names? ADEODATUS. I know that too. AtJGl:STI:\E. Then you know that 'name' is signi­ fied by 'word' as well as 'word' by 'name.' ADEODATUS. I agree. AUGUST!:\ E. Can you say what the difference be­

tween them is, apart from the fact that they are written

and 'word ' -have a different signification?

ADEODArtJS. :\ow I see that this can happen. I'm waiting for you to show me how it happens.

At'GUSTI:\E. You observe, I think, that everything expressed by an articulated sound accompanied by some significate ( i) strikes the ear so that it can be per­ ceived, and (ii) is committed to memory so that it can be known.

ADEODATCS. I do. AtJGlSri:\E. Then these two things happen when we utter something by such a sound.

and pronounced differently? ADEODATUS. Perhaps I can, for I see that it's what I said a little while ago. When we say

AucusTI:\E. Then what if every word is a name

and every name is a word in this fashion, even though these two names or two words themselves - 'name'

'words,' we sig-

ADEODATUS. Yes. AucusTI:\E. What if words are so called because of one of these and names are so called because of the other- 'words' from striking [the ear] and 'names'

18. This translation depends on taking genus in two dis­

from knowing19- so that the former deserve to be

tinct ways: as 'kind' or 'class,' and as the gender of the name. If we insist on a uniform reading, the latter part of the sentence might be translated: "and 'name' is a name of neither class [i.e., neither word nor sign ]."

19. The false etymological connection proposed here may seem more plausible in Latin: words (verba) are so

The Teacher

I7

called after the ears, whereas the latter deserve to be

may be correctly said of them, because 'all these

called after the mind?

words' is correctly said of them. :\"ow if you should ask me what part of speech 'words' is, I'll answer that it's only a name. Thus perhaps the pronoun ['these'] was

[ 5 . 1 3J

ADEODATUS. I'll grant this once you have

shown me how we can correctly call all words 'names.' AucusTI-.;E. That's easy. I believe you have ac­ cepted and do maintain that what can take the place of a name is called a 'pronoun,'20 although it marks out

[implicitly] attached to this name ['words'] , so that your locution ['all these (words)'] was correct.

[ 5 . 14 J

AucusTI-.;E. Your mistake is subtle. Pay closer

attention to what I say so that you may stop being mis­

a thing with a less complete signification than a name does. The person whom you paid to be your grammar teacher, I believe, defined it as follows: a pronoun is

for discussing words with words is as entangled as in­

that part of speech which, when put in place of a

terlocking one's fingers and rubbing them together,

name, signifies the same object but less completely.

where hardly anyone but the person doing it can dis­

take n - at least, if I should be able to say it as I wish;

Am:ODATUS. I remember this, and approve of it.

tinguish the fingers that itch from the fingers scratch­

AucusTI-.;E. Then you see that according to this

ing the itch.

definition pronouns can only serve in place of names and can be put only in the place of names. For exam­ ple, we say "this man," "the king himself," "the same woman," "this gold," "that silver." :\ow 'this,' 'himself,' 'the same,' and 'that' are pronouns;2 1 'man,' 'king,'

ADEODATUS. Well, I'm paying close attention, for your analogy has aroused my interest. AUGUSTI-.;E. Words surely consist of sound and

letters. ADEODATUS. Yes.

'woman,' 'gold,' and 'silver' are names. Things are sig­

Accus11-.;E. Then, to employ in the best way the

nified more completely by these [names J than by the

authority most dear to us, when the Apostle Paul says:22

pronouns. ADEODATUS. I see and agree with you.

In Christ there was not Yea and :\ay, but in Him

AucusTI-.;E. :\ow then: enunciate a few conjunc­

was Yea,

tions for m e -whichever you like. ADEODATU S. 'And,' 'too,' 'but,' 'also.'

I don't suppose it should be thought that when we say

AuGUSTI-.;E. Doesn't it seem to you that all these

'Yea' these three letters

you have mentioned are names? Am:oDATUS. :\ot at all.

[y-e-a] we enunciate were in

Christ, but what is signified by them. ADEODATUS. You're right.

AucusTI -.; E . Doesn't it seem to you that I spoke

AuGUSTI -.;E. Then you understand that a person

correctly when I said, "all these you have mentioned"? ADEODATUS. Quite correctly. :\ow I understand

who says "in Him was Yea" only said that what we call 'Yea' was in Him. In the same way, if he had said "in

how surprisingly you have shown me to have enunci­

Him was virtue," he certainly would be taken to have

ated names, for otherwise 'all these' could not have

only said that what we call 'virtue' was in Him, nor

been said of them correctly. Yet I still suspect that the reason it seems to rne that you spoke correctly is as follows. I don't deny that these four conjunctions are also words. Hence 'all these'

called from striking the ear (verberando), and names (nomina) are so called from knowing (noscendo). A pronoun (pronomen) is what can take the place of a name (nomen ), which is why it is so called (pro-nomen).

20.

Z I . That is, they are pronouns when used by themselves. In 'this man,' 'this' is an adjective.

ZZ. 2 Cor. I : 19. The Greek text has: Nai. Kat OU, which means "Yea or .\'ay." Yet there is no straightforward way to say "yes" in Latin; locutions saying that something is the case were typically used instead -sic, est, ita. Various translators used the standard substitute, "It is so" (est), which can also simply be translated "is." Thus the Latin text reads "There was not in Christ is and is not, but in Him was is only." That is why Augustine argues later that it has the dual force of both verb (as 'is') and name (as 'yes').

18

Augustine, 3 54-4 30

should we think that these two syllables w e enunciate when we say

'vir-tue' were in H i m rather than what is

cause it may happen that Paul, although he lived and taught most correctly, spoke less correctly when he says "in Him was Yea," especially since he admits h i m­

signified by these two syllables. ADEODATUS . I understand, and I follow you.

self to be unskilled in speech.24 How then do you

AucusTI:-;E. Don't you also understand that it

think this objector should be refuted?

makes no difference whether anyone says "it is called 'virtue' " and " it is named 'virtue' "?

ADEODATUS. I have nothing to say against him!

Please find someone among those to whom the most

ADEODATUS. That's obvious.

profound knowledge of words is granted, by whose au­

AucusTI:-;E. Then it's obvious that it makes no dif­

thority instead you might bring about what you wish.

ference whether one says "what is called 'Yea' was in Him" and "what is named 'Yea' was in Him." ADEODATUS. I see that this too makes no differ-

AucusTI:-;E. Does the argument itself seem less

adequate to you once the authorities are put aside? It demonstrates that every part of speech signifies some­ thing and that it is so called on this basis. Yet if a part

ence. AucusTI:-;E. :\ow do you see what I want to show

you?

of speech is called something, then it is named; if named, surely it is named by a name. This is most easily recognized in the case of differ­

ADEODATUS. Not quite yet. Aucusn:-;E. Really? Don't you see that a name is

ent languages. Anyone can see that if I should ask, "What do the Greeks name what we name 'who'?" the

that by which a thing is named? ADEODATUS. I see clearly that nothing is more

certain than this! Aucusn:-;E. Then you see that 'Yea' is a name,

given that what was in Christ is named 'Yea.' ADEODATUS . I can't deny it. AucusTI:-;E. Well, if I should ask you what part of

speech 'Yea' (est) is, I think you would say that it isn't a name but a verb, although the argument has taught us that it is also a name.23 ADEODATUS. It's exactly as you say. AccusTI:-;E. Do you still doubt that other parts of

answer given to me is tic;; and likewise for 'I want' 8£Aw; for 'well'

JCaAii'x;; for 'written' to yqpa11�vov;

for 'and' JCai; for 'bv' am>; for 'alas' ot. Yet i n all these

parts of speech I ha�e just listed,2; it can't be that any­ one who asks what they are in this way would speak

correctly unless they were names. We can therefore maintain by this argument that the Apostle Paul spoke

correctly, while putting aside the authority belonging to all eloquent people. What need is there to ask who supports our view?

[ 5 . 1 6]

If there is someone slower or more impudent

speech are also names in the same way in which we

who still doesn't give in, and asserts that he isn't going

have demonstrated [a verb to be a name]?

to give in at all except to those authors who everyone

ADEODATU S.

I don't doubt it, insofar as I admit

agrees are paradigms of proper language - what in the

they signify something. :\ow if you should inquire

Latin language more excellent than Cicero can be

what each of the things they signify is called ( i.e., what

found? Yet in his noblest speeches he called 'in the

they are named), I can only reply that they are the very

presence of (coram ) - which is a preposition, or

parts of speech we do not call 'names' - but I see we're

rather in this passage is an adverb - a name.26

proven to be wrong [with this answer].

[5. 1 5]

AuGUSTI:-;E. Aren't you at all troubled that

there might be someone who would make our argu­ ment totter by saying that authority over things rather than words should be attributed to the apostles? So the basis of our conviction isn't as secure as we think, be-

23. Augustine's point is that verb. See the preceding note.

'est'

is, strictly speaking, a

24. 2 Cor.

1 1 : 6.

25. The seven question-answer pairs above correspond to seven of the eight parts of speech, respectively: pro­

noun, verb, adverb, adjective, conjunction, preposition, interjection. The other part of speech is the name, which surely includes names, and so can be left out of Augus­ tine's argument. 26. When Cicero describes Verres' forgery of judicial

The Teacher :\ow perhaps I don't understand that passage from Cicero sufficiently well, and I myself or another per­ son might explain it differently at other times. Yet there is, I think, another point to which no reply can be made. The most eminent teachers of dialectic hand it down that a complete sentence, which may be affirmed and denied, consists of a name and a verb. (Cicero somewhere calls this kind of thing a 'proposi­ tion.'27) When the verb is in the third person, they say that the nominative case of the name ought to ac­ company it. This is correct. If you should consider with me that when we say "The man sits" or "The horse runs," I think you recognize that they are two propositions. Am:ooATUS. I do recognize that. AuGUSTI:\ E . You observe in each case that there is a single name, 'man' in the one and 'horse' in the other, and that there is a single verb, 'sits' in the one and 'runs' in the other. AoEODATus. Yes. AucusTI:\E. Then ifi were to say only 'sits' or only 'runs,' you would correctly ask me "Who?" or "What?" To that question I would reply "the man" or "the horse" or "the animal" or anything else, so that a name, when added to the verb, could complete the proposition. That is to say, it could complete a sen­ tence that can be affirmed and denied. AoEODATCS . I understand. AccusTI:\E. Pay attention to the rest: imagine that we see something far away and are uncertain whether it is an animal or a stone or something else, and I say to you: "Because it is a man, it is an animal." Wouldn't I be speaking carelessly? AoEODATUS. Very carelessly. You clearly wouldn't be speaking carelessly if you were to say: "If it is a man, it is an animal."

records to make it appear that Sthenius, tried in absentia, \\as instead present at the trial, he writes: "Don't you see this whole name 'in the presence of [coram] is in the text where [Verres] put it?" [Viditisne tatum hoc nomen coram ubi facit delatum esse in litura?, The Action against Verres Z.Z. l 04] . Augustine admits that he is unsure about his reading of the passage. Z7. Cicero, Tusculan Disputations I. 7. 14.

19

AucusTI:\E. You're right. S o the 'if i n your state­ ment is acceptable to me and acceptable to you, whereas the 'because' in mine is unacceptable to both of us. ADEODATUS. I agree. AucusTI:\E. Now see whether these two sen­ tences are complete propositions: " 'If is acceptable" and " 'Because' is unacceptable." AoEODATUS. They are complete. AucusTI:\E. :\'ow do this: tell me which are the verbs and which are the names in those sentences. AoEODATUS. I see that there the verbs are 'is ac­ ceptable' and 'is unacceptable.' What else are the names but 'if and 'because'? AucuSTI:\ E . Then it has been adequately proved that these two conjunctions ['if and 'because'] are also names. AoEODATUS . Yes. AucusTI:\E. Can't you derive for yourself the self­ same result i n the case of the other parts of speech, so as to establish the same rule for them all? ADEODATUS. I can. [ 6. 1 7] AucusTI:\E. Then let's move on from here. :\ow tell me whether it seems to you that, just as we have found that all words are names and that all names are words, so too all names are terms [vocabula ] and all terms are names. ADEODATUS. I don't see what difference there is between ['name' and 'term'] , aside from the different sound of the syllables. AUGUSTI:\E. I don't raise any objection to your re­ ply for the time being. Although there is no lack of people who distinguish them even by signification, there is no need to consider their view now. Surely you're aware that we have now come to signs that sig­ nify one another mutually, differing in nothing but sound, and that signify themselves along with all the other parts of speech.28 AoEODATUS. I don't understand. AucusTI:\ E . Then don't you understand that 'name' is signified by 'term' and 'term' is signified by 'name' in such a way that there is no difference be­ tween them, aside from the sound of their letters? At

28. See 5. 1 1 .

20

Augustine, 3 54-430

least, so far as 'name' in general is concerned - for we also say 'name' specifically as one of the eight parts of speech, such that it does not contain the other seven parts of speech. ADEODATUS. I understand. AucusTI:\E. This is what I said: that 'term' and 'name' signify each other mutually. [6. 1 8] ADF.ODATUS. I understand that, but I'm asking what you meant when [you said] they also "signify themselves along with the other parts of speech" [ 6. 1 7] . AucusTI:\'E. Hasn't the argument above taught us that all parts of speech can be called names as well as terms - that is to say, they can be signified by both 'name' and 'term'? AoEODATUS. That's true. AucusTI:\E. What if I should ask you what you call name itself, that is, the sound expressed by the sin­ gle syllable ['name']? Won't you correctly answer me 'name'? ADEODATUS. Yes. AucusTI:\E. When we say 'con-iunc-tion,' this sign that we enunciate with three syllables doesn't sig­ nify itself in this fashion, does it? The name [ 'con­ junction'] can't be counted among the things that it signifies. ADEODATUS. I accept that. AucusTI:\E. That is, [you accept] what has been said : that 'name' signifies itself along with the other things it signifies. You also may understand this for yourself regarding 'term.' ADEODATUS. Come on! That's easy. Yet now it strikes me that 'name' is said both generally and specif­ ically, whereas 'term' isn't taken to be among the eight parts of speech. Accordingly, I think that ['name' and 'term'] also differ from one another in this regard, aside from the difference in sound. At..:G lJSTI:\E. Well, do you think that 'name' [nomen J and ovo�a differ from one another in any re­ gard, aside from the sound by which the two languages are also distinguished' ADEODATUS. Here I see no other difference. AucusTI:\E. Then we have arrived at signs: (a) that signify themselves; (b) each of which is mutually signified by the other; (c) wherein whatever is signified by the one is also signified by the other; and (d) that differ from each other in nothing aside from sound. To

be sure we have discovered only (d), for (a)-( c) are also understood for 'name' and 'word.' ADEODAru s . Absolutely. [7. 1 9 ] AucusTI:\E. :\'ow I should like you to review what we have found out in our discussion. ADEODATUS. I'll do so as best I can. First, I remember that we spent some time inquir­ ing why we speak. It was found that we speak for the sake of teaching or reminding, given that when we ask questions we do so only in order that the person who is asked may learn what we wish to hear. �ow in the case of singing, which it seems we do for pleasure (and this is not a proper feature of speak­ ing), and in the case of praying to Cod, Who we can­ not suppose is taught or reminded, words are for the purpose either of reminding ourselves or that others may be reminded or taught by us. :\'ext, since we were sufficiently in agreement that words are only signs and that things not signifying any­ thing can't be signs, you put forward a line of verse:29 If nothing from so great a city it pleases the gods be left . . . and I undertook to show what each word in this line of verse signifies. Though the second word of this line of verse, [ 'nothing'], is familiar and obvious, in the end we didn't uncover what it signifies. Since it seemed to me that we don't use it pointlessly when we speak, but with it we teach something to the person who is lis­ tening, you replied that when one finds or thinks one­ self to have found that the thing one seeks doesn't exist, perhaps a state of mind is indicated by this word. Yet you avoided any depth the.re may be to the ques­ tion with a joke and postponed it to be explained at an­ other time- don't think that I have forgotten your obligation too� Then, since I was hard pressed to explain the third word in this line of verse, ['from'], you urged me to show vou not another word that had the same mean­ ing but instead the thing itself signified by the word. Because I had said that we could not do this while en­ gaged in discussion, we came to those things that are

29. Virgil, Aeneid 2.6;9.

The Teacher exhibited to people raising such questions by [point­ ing] a finger. I thought all these things were corporeal, but we found that they are only the visible things. From here we moved o n - ! don't know how - to the case of deaf people and actors, who signify with wordless gesturing not only things that can be seen, but many other things besides, and nearly everything that we talk about. Just the same, we found that ges­ tures themselves are signs. At that point we began again to inquire how we could show without any signs the things themselves that are signified by the signs, since it was proved that even a wall, or color, or anything visible that is shown by aiming the finger is shown by a definite sign. Here I was mistaken since I had said that nothing of the sort could be found. Eventually we agreed that we can point out with­ out a sign those things we aren't doing when we are asked about them but we can do after the inquiry. Yet it was apparent that speaking isn't that kind of thing, given that when we're asked what speaking is while we're speaking, it's easy to illustrate speaking through itself. [7.20] After that, our attention was called to the fact that either [ I ] signs are exhibited by means of signs, or [2] things that we can do after a question [has been raised] are exhibited without a sign, or [ 3 ] other things, which are not signs, are exhibited with signs. 30 We un­ dertook to consider and discuss carefully [ 1 ] . I n the debate [regarding (a) ] , it was revealed that on the one hand there are signs that could not in turn be signified by the signs they signify, as for example when we say the three-syllable word 'con-junc-tion'; on the other hand there are signs that could in turn be sig­ nified by the signs they signify; for example when we say 'sign' we also signify 'word' and when we say 'word' we also signify 'sign' (for 'sign' and 'word' are both two signs and two words) . However, in this class of signs that signify each other mutually, it was established that some mean not so much, some mean just as much, and some even

30. Adeodatus gives [ 3 ] before [ 2 ] i n his summary here; I have reversed the order to conform to Augustine's ear­ lier presentation of the fundamental division .

21

mean the same. 3 I The fact is that when we say this one-syllable word 'sign,' which makes a certain sound, it signifies absolutely everything by means of which any­ thing is signified. Yet when we say 'word,' it isn't a sign of all signs but only of signs uttered by an articulated sound. Accordingly, it's clear that although 'word' is sig­ nified by 'sign' and 'sign' is signified by 'word' - that is to say, the former syllable is signified by the latter and the latter syllable is signified by the former- 'sign' nev­ ertheless means more than 'word' does, given that the former syllable signifies more things than the latter. Yet 'word' in general means just as much as 'name' in general. The argument has taught us that all the parts ofspeech are also names, since (a) pronouns can be added to [names]; (b) it can be said of all parts of speech that they name something; (c) there is no [part of speech] that can't complete a proposition by means of an added verb. Although 'name' and 'word' mean just as much, in that all things that are words are also names, they don't mean the same. We probably discussed sufficiently the

3 1 . The phrases 'not so much,' 'just so much,' and 'the same' are adverbial modifiers, desc ribing the kind of sig­ nification possessed by terms. Adeodatus seems to be talk­ ing on the one hand about inclusion-relations among the class of significates, and on the other hand about sense (or intension). Let x and y signify each other mutually. The class of x-significates may be a subclass of the class of y-s igni ficates, so that x "means not so much" as y; or the class of x-significates and the class of y-s ignificates may be the same, so that x and y "mean just as much." (Adeodatus does not mention the case in which the classes overlap, but neither is completely contained within the other.) The Latin term 'tantum' indicates quantity, and suggests this extensional reading. However, the case in which terms "mean the same" is not a case in which the extensions are equal (that case is covered by terms that umcan just as much"). Adeodatus offers two ways in which terms can fail to mean the same: (a) they may have a sense that is derived from their initial use, revealed by etymology; (b) they are not interchangeable in ordinary contexts. Hence this case seems to include a difference in 'meaning' beyond the comparison of significate­ classes. Thus it appears to be a difference not in exten­ sion, but in intension or sense.

22

Augustine,

3 54-430

reason some are called 'words' and others 'names,' if it has been ascertained that one of these is for marking out the striking of the ear, the other for marking out the mind's recollection [commemorationem] . Or per­ haps the point can be understood on this basis, namely, that when we want to commit something to memory, we speak most correctly when we say "What is this thing's name?" whereas we are not accustomed to say­ ing, "What is this thing's word?"32 We found that 'name' and ovoJla signify not only just as much but also exactly the same, and there is no difference between them aside from the sound of the letters. The point had really slipped my mind that in the class of signs that signify one another mutually we found no sign that doesn't also signify itself, among the other things that it signifies. I've recalled these things as best I could. You, I be­ lieve, haven't said anything in this discussion except with knowledge and assurance. :\'ow see whether I have reviewed these matters properly and in order. [8.2 1 ] AucuSTI:\"E. You have accurately recalled from memory all I wanted. I must admit to you that these distinctions now seem much clearer to me than they were when the two of us, by inquiry and discussion, unearthed them from whatever their hiding places were. However, with so many detours, it's difficult to say at this point where you and I are trying to get to! .\1aybe you think we're playing around and diverting the mind from serious matters by some little puzzles that seem childish, or that we're pursuing some result that is only small or modest- or, if you suspect that this discussion might issue in some important result, you want to know straightaway what it is (or at least to hear me say what it is' ) . Well, I'd like you to believe that I haven't set to work on mere trivialities in this conversation. Though we do perhaps play around, this should itself not be regarded as childish. :\or are we thinking about small or modest goods. Yet if I were to say that there is a happy and everlasting life, and I want us to be led there under the guidance of God (namely Truth H im­ self) by stages that are suitable to our weak steps, I'm afraid I might seem laughable for having set out on

32. The argument given in this sentence is new.

such a long journey by considering signs rather than the things themselves that are signified. So then, you'll pardon me if I play around with you at first- not for the sake of playing around,33 but to ex­ ercise the mind's strength and sharpness, with which we're able not only to withstand but also to love the heat and light of that region where the happy life is. ADEODATUS. Continue as you have begun! I would never think to belittle what you think ought to be said or done.

[Discussion of Division [2] ] 34 [8.22] Aucusn:s-E. Then come now, let's consider the division [of signs] where signs do not signify other signs but instead things, which we call 'signifiables.' First tell me whether man is man. AoEODATUS. :\ow I don't know whether you're playing around with me. Auct:STI:\"E. Why so? AoEODATUS. Because you think it necessary to ask me whether man is anything but man! AccusTI:\"E. Then I believe you'd also think I was merely playing around with you if I were to ask whether the first syllable of this name ['man'] [homo] is anything but 'ho-' and the second syllable anything but '-mo.' ADEODATUS. Yes! I would! Auccsn:s-E. Yet those two syllables [ 'ho-' and '-mo'] conjoined are man [homo]. Will you deny it? ADEODATCS. Who could deny it? At:Gl:STI:\"E. Then I ask the question: are you those two conjoined syllables7

3 3. There is some untranslatable wordplay here: si prae­ ludo tecum, non ludendi gratia. 34. Divi sion [2] deals with significates that are non-signs. .\1ore precisely, it deals with the extent to which things that may be signifiable (but are not themselves signs) can be known, either (a) in their own right or (b) through signs. Before Augustine and Adeodatus can address (a) and (b), a possible source of confusion has to be ruled out, namely, the case in which a sign is used to exhibit it­ self qua sound (8.22-24). See 4.7 above.

The Teacher ADEODATCS.

:\ot at all, but I see where you're

headed. AucusTI'>;E. Then you shall tell me, so you don't think I'm being offensive. ADEODATUS . You think it follows that I'm not a man. Aucus·n'>;E. Well, don't you think the same thing? You grant that all those claims above, from which this conclusion has been deduced, are true. ADEODATUS. I won't tell you what I think until I have first heard from you whether in your question about man being man you were asking me about those two syllables ['ho-mo'] or about the very thing they signify. AucusTI'>;E. Reply to this instead: from what standpoint have you taken my question? If it's am­ biguous, you ought to have guarded against this first, and not answered me before you made certain pre­ cisely how I put the question. AnEODATCS. Why should this ambiguity be any obstacle, since I have replied to each? Man is certainly man: those two syllables ['ho-mo'] are nothing other than those two syllables, and what they signify is noth­ ing other than what it is. AucuSTI'>; E . Of course you know this. Yet why have you taken only the word 'man' in each way, and not also the other words we have spoken? ADEODATUS. On what grounds am I proven wrong not to have taken the others in this way too? AucusTI'>;E. To put aside other reasons- if you had taken that first question of mine entirely from the standpoint in which the syllables are mere sounds, you wouldn't have made any reply to me, for I could have seemed not to ask you anyihing. Yet now, given that I uttered three words-one of which I repeated in the second and fourth place15 -saying "whether man is · man," you clearly took the first word and the third word not as signs themselves but as the things they sig­ nify. This is obvious from the fact that you were im­ mediately certain and confident that the question ought to be answered. ADEODA:ru s . You're right.

3 5 . "In the second and fourth place": literally, 'in the middle,' since the question is utrum homo homo sit.

23

AucusTI'>; E . Then why did it suit you to take only the word in the second and fourth place both ac­ cording to what it sounds like and according to what it signifies? ADEODATU S. Look, now I take the whole thing only from the standpoint of what is signified. I do agree with you that we can't carry on a conversation at all unless the words we hear direct the mind to the things of which they are the signs. So now show me how I was misled by the line of reasoning in which it's deduced that I'm not a man. AuccSTI'>; E . Instead, I'll ask the same questions again, so that you yourself may discover where you stumbled. AoEODArus. Fine! [8.23] AucusTI'>;E. I won't repeat my first question, [namely, whether man is man]. because now you haven't granted it. So, then, examine more carefully [my second question ]: whether the syllable 'ho-' is any­ thing but 'ho-' and whether '-mo' is anything but '-mo. ' AoEODArus. I don't see anything else here at all. AUGUST!'>; E . See also whether man [homo J is not made from these two syllables [ 'ho-' and '-mo'] in combination. ADEODATUS. I should never have granted this! It was agreed, and rightly so, that when a sign is given we should pay attention to what is signified, and from the consideration of this to admit or to deny what is said. Yet when the syllables ['ho-' and '-mo'] are enunciated separately, it was granted that they are the sounds them­ selves, since they are sounds without any signification. At:GLSTI'>;E. 'Then it is agreed, and firmly estab­ lished in your mind, that questions should be an­ swered only on the basis of the things signified by the words. Am:on-\T t:s. I don't understand why this is unac­ ceptable -so long as they are words. At:cusTI '>; E . I 'd like to know how you would re­ fute the man we often hear about while we're telling jokes, who drew the conclusion that a lion came out of the mouth of the person with whom he was argu­ ing. He had asked whether what we say comes out of our mouth. His interlocutor couldn't deny it. He then easily contrived to make his interlocutor use the name 'lion' during the conversation. When this happened, he began to taunt his interlocutor and ridicule him,

24

Augustine,

3 54-430

saying that a man who wasn't a bad fellow seemed to have vomited up a monstrous beast! For his interlocu­ tor had admitted that whatever we say comes out of our mouth, and he couldn't deny that he had said 'lion.' ADEODATUS. Well, it wasn't difficult at all to re­ fute this clown. I wouldn't grant that whatever we say comes out of our mouth. We signify the things that we say, and what comes out of the speaker's mouth isn't the thing signified but the sign by which it is signi­ fied - except when the signs themselves are signified, and we discussed this class [of signs] a little while ago. [ 8.24] AucusTI�E. In this way you would have been well armed against him. Yet what will you say to me upon being asked whether man is a name?36 AoEODATUS. What except that it is a name? AucuSTI�E. Well, do I see a name when I see you? ADEODATUS. :\o. AucusTI�E. Then do you want me to say what follows? AoEODATUS. Please don't! I declare for myself that I'm not a man - for when you asked whether man is a name, I answered that it was a name. As a matter of fact, we had already agreed to grant or deny what is said based on the thing signified. AucusTI�E. It seems to me, however, that you didn't fall into this answer without grounds. The law of reason that is implanted in our minds overcame your caution. 37 If I should ask what man is, you prob­ ably would answer "an animal." If I were to ask what part of speech man is, you could only answer correctly "a name." So although man is found to be both a name and an animal, the former is said from the standpoint in which it is a sign; the latter, the standpoint in which it is signified.

36. Here and in the next several paragraphs I have not inserted quotation marks, since Augustine's argument turns on blurring the distinction between man and man.' 37. The "law of reason" is to follow explicit contextual signs in disambiguating questions, which overcame Adeo­ datus' rule always to interpret questions from the stand­ point of what is signified. Augustine suggests in the next paragraph that Adeodatus' rule comes into play in the ab­ sence of contextual signs, and in his last speech in this section he perhaps suggests that this is natural. '

If anyone asks me whether man is a name, then, I would answer that it is nothing else, for he signifies well enough that he wants to hear the answer from the standpoint in which it is a sign. If he asks whether man is an animal, I would give my assent much more read­ ily. If without mentioning "name" or "animal" he were to inquire only what man is, then in virtue of that agreed-upon rule of language the mind would quickly move along to what is signified by this syllable ['man'], and the answer would simply be "an animal"; or even the whole definition, namely, "a rational mortal ani­ mal," might be stated. Don't you think so? ADEODATUS. I do, entirely. Yet since we have granted that [man] is a name, how shall we avoid the offensive conclusion in which it's deduced that we aren't men? AuGUSTI�E. How do you think but by establish­ ing that the conclusion was not inferred from the standpoint in which we agreed with the questioner? On the other hand, if he were to admit that he draws the conclusion from this standpoint, then it is­ n't to be feared in any way. Why should I be afraid to admit that I'm not man - that I'm not that syllable? Am:ODATCS . .\'othing is more true! Then why is saying "Hence you are not a man" offensive to the mind, since according to what we granted nothing more true could be said? Auct:STI�E. Because as soon as the words [of the conclusion) arc uttered, I can't help thinking that what is signified by the syllable [ 'man'] is relevant to the conclusion, by virtue of the law that naturally has the most power - so that once the signs are heard, the attention is directed to the things signified. ADEOD.·\Tl:S. I agree with what you say. [9. 2 ; ] At!Gtsn �E . .\'ow then, I want you to under­ stand that the things signified should be valued more than their signs. Whatever exists on account of an­ other must be worth less than that on account of which it exists - unless you think otherwise. ADEODATt:s. It seems to me that assent shouldn't be given lightly at this point. When we say 'filth,' for instance, I think the name is far superior to the thing it signifies. What offends us when we hear it isn't the sound of the word itself. When one letter is changed, the name 'filth' [ caenum] becomes 'heaven' [ caelum], but we see what a great difference there is between the

The Teacher things signified by these names ['filth' and 'heaven' ] ! For this reason, I certainly wouldn't attribute to the sign ['filth'] what we so loathe in the thing it signifies, and hence I rightly prefer the former to the latter, for we're more willing to hear the sign than to come into contact with the thing it signifies by any of the senses. AucusTI:\"E. You're most certainly on your guard. Then it's false that all things should be valued more than their signs. ADEODATUS . So it seems. AucusTI:\"E. Then tell me what you think the men who gave the name ['filth'] to so vile and loath­ some a thing were aiming at, and whether you approve or disapprove of them. AoEODATUS. For my part, I do not venture either to approve or to disapprove of them, and I don't know what they were aiming at. AUGUSTI:\"E. Can't you at least know what you are aiming at when you enunciate this name? ADEODAn;s. Obviously I can. I want to signify, in order to teach or recall to the person I'm talking with, the thing I think he should be taught or recall . 38 AucusTI:\"F.. Well, the teaching or recalling (or being taught or recalled) that you conveniently fur­ nish by the name (or that is furnished to you by the name) - shouldn't it be held more valuable than the name itself? ADEODAlTS . I do grant that the very knowledge that results from the sign should be preferred to the sign, but I don't think that therefore the thing should be. [9.26] Auct:STI:\"E. In this theory of ours, then, al­ though it's false that all things should be preferred to their signs, it's not false that anything existing on ac­ count of another is worth less than that on account of which it exists. The knowledge of filth, for the sake of which the name ['filth'] was instituted, should be held more valuable than the name itself- and we found that this is in turn to be preferred to filth. This know!-

38. This awkward sentence has a simple meaning: Adeo­ datus uses the name 'filth' when he wants to talk about filth with someone- that is, to convey knowledge, which is a matter of either teaching or recalling, according to the start of the dialogue.

25

edge is preferable to the sign we're speaking about [namely 'filth'] precisely because the latter demon­ strably exists on account of the former, and not the other way around. This [rule] also holds, for example, in the case of the glutton and "worshipper of his stomach" (as the Apostle says), 39 who said that he lived to eat: the tem­ perate man who heard him protested and said: "How much better that you should eat to live!"40 Each man, however, spoke according to this very rule. The only reason the glutton evoked displeasure was that he val­ ued his life so little that he should lead it in a worth­ less fashion for the pleasure of his palate, saying that he lived on account of meals. The only reason the temperate man deserves praise is that, understanding which of these two things should occur on account of the other (namely, which one is subordinate to the other), he gave the reminder that we should eat to live rather than the other way around. Likewise, if a talkative word-lover says "I teach in order to talk," you and any other person judging things with some experience might perhaps respond to him: "Why don't you instead talk in order to teach?" .'.'ow if these things are true, as you know they are, surely you see how much less words are to be valued than that on account of which we use words. The use of words should itself already be preferred to words: words exist so that we may use them. Furthermore, we use them in order to teach. Hence teaching is better than speaking to the same extent that the speaking is better than the words. The teaching'H is, therefore, that much better than words. I want to hear any objections you think perhaps should be offered against this. [ 9 . 2 7 ] ADFODATCS. I do agree that the teaching is better than words. I don't know whether any objection

Rom. 1 6: 1 8 The story is an old one. The saying is reported in Pseudo-Cicero, Rhetoric for Herennius 4 . 2 8 . 39, and in Quintilian, Oratorical Guidelines 9 . 3 . 8 5 ; it is attributed to Socrates by Aulus Celli us in Attic Nights 1 9.2.7. 4 1 . The earlier occurrences of 'teaching' have referred primarily to the activity (ad docendum, docere); here Au­ gustine subtly moves to the distinguishing feature of the activity (or to its content): doctrina. 39.

40.

26

Aug ustine, 3 54-430

can be raised against the rule according to which everything that exists on account of another is said to be inferior to that on account of which it exists. AucusTI:--.c F. We'll discuss this more opportunely and more carefully at another time. Right now what you concede is sufficient for what I'm trying to estab­ lish. You grant that knowledge of things is more valu­ able than the signs of things, and for this reason knowledge of the things signified should be preferable to knowledge of their signs. Doesn't it seem so to you? ADEODATUS. Surely I haven't conceded that knowledge of things is superior to the knowledge of signs, and not just superior to the signs themselves, have I? So I have misgivings about agreeing with you on this score. The name 'filth' is better than the thing it signifies. What if knowledge of this name is then likewise to be preferred to knowledge of the thing, al­ though the name itself is i nferior to that knowledge? There are obviously four things here: (a)

the name

(b)

the thing

(c)

knowledge of the name

(d)

knowledge of the thing

Just as (a) surpasses (b), then, why shouldn't (c) also surpass (d)? Yet even if (c) were not to surpass (d), surely (c) isn't then to be subordinated to (d), is it? [9.28] Auct.:s-n:--.: E . I see with great admiration that you've held fast to what you conceded and explained what you thought. I think you understand, however, that the one-syllable name pronounced when we say 'vice' is better than what it signifies, although knowl­ edge of the name ['vice'] itself is far inferior to knowl­ edge of vices.42 So although you may distinguish those four things and reflect upon them - the name, the thing, knowledge of the name, knowledge of the

42. As Augustine points out, here (a) is superior to (b), since the name 'vice' is preferable to an actual vice, but (d) is superior to (c), since knowledge of the vice is prefer­ able to merely knowing the name 'vice.'

thing-we rightly prefer (a) to (b). For instance, when Persi us says:4 3 But this man is besotted with vice . . . putting the name ['vice'] into the poem didn't do any­ thing vicious to his line of verse, but even embellished it. When, however, the very thing signified by the name ['vice'] is present in anyone, it compels him to be vicious. Yet we don't see that (c) surpasses (d) in this way. Instead, (d) surpasses (c), since knowledge of the name ['vice'] is worthless compared to knowledge of VICeS. ADEODATUS. Do you think this knowledge should be preferred even when it makes us more miserable? Among all the punishments contrived by the cruelty of tyrants or meted out by their cupidity, Persius him­ self puts first the one that tortures men by forcing them to recognize vices they can't avoid. AucusTI:--.c E . In the same way you also can deny that knowledge of virtues itself should be preferred to knowledge of the name ['virtue'] . Seeing virtue and not possessing it is a torment, one that the same satirist wished tyrants would be punished with.44 ADEODATUS. May God turn aside this madness! :\ow I understand that the items of knowledge them­ selves, with which the best education of all has filled the mind, are not to be blamed. Instead, those men should be judged the most miserable - as I think Per­ sius also judged them-who are affiicted with such a disease that not even so great a remedy provides relief for it. Auct:STI:--.c E . That's right. But what do we care whatever Persius' opinion may be? We aren't subject to the authority of these men45 in such matters. Con-

43. Persius, Satires 3 . 32. 44. Persius, Satires 3 . 3 5-38: "Great Father of the Gods! When detestable lust attainted with dreadful venom has moved the souls of cruel tyrants, let it be your will to pun­ ish them in no other way but this: let them look upon virtue and pine away for leaving it behind!" 45. "Of these men": horum. It is unclear who Augustine means to single out here- satirists? poets? pagans?

The Teacher sequently, it isn't easy to explain at this point whether some item of knowledge is to be preferred to another item of knowledge. I'm satisfied that we have shown that knowledge of things signified is preferable to the signs themselves, though not to knowledge of sigm.

[Discussion of Division [2(a) ] ] Therefore, let's now analyze more completely the class of things we said can be exhibited through them­ selves, without signs, such as speaking, walking, sit­ ting, lying down, and the like. AoEODATUS. I now recall what you're describing. [ I 0.29] AucuSTI:-;E. Does it seem to you that all the things we can do once we've been asked about them can be exhibited without a sign? Is there any exception? AoEODATUS. Considering this whole class over and over again, I still don't find anything that can be taught without a sign - except perhaps speaking, and possibly if someone should happen to ask the very question "What is it to teach?" - for I see that no mat­ ter what I do after his question so that he may learn, he doesn't learn from the very thing he wants exhib­ ited to him. For example, if anyone should ask me what it is to walk while I was resting or doing something else, as was said, and I should attempt to teach him what he asked about without a sign, by immediately walking, how shall I guard against his thinking that it's just the amount of walking I have done? He'll be mis­ taken if he thinks this. He'll think that anyone who walks farther than I have, or not as far, hasn't walked at all. Yet what I have said about this one word ['walk­ ing'] applies to all the things I had agreed can be ex­ hibited without a sign, apart from the two exceptions we made. [ 1 0.30] AucusTI:-;E. I agree with this point. Yet does­ n't it seem to you that speaking is one thing and teach­ ing another' ADEODATlJS. It does. If they were the same, no­ body would teach except by speaking; but seeing that we also teach many things with other signs besides words, who would have any doubt that there is a dif­ ference?

27

AucusTI:-;E. Well, is there any difference between teaching and signifying, or not? ADEODATUS. I think they're the same. AucusTI:-;E. Anyone who says that we signify i n order to teach i s right, isn't he? AoEODATUS. Completely right. Aucusn:-;E. Well, if someone else were to say that we teach in order to signify, wouldn't he easily be re­ futed by the view given above? AoEODATU S. That is SO. AucUSTI:\'E. Then if we signify in order to teach, and we don't teach in order to signify, teaching is one thing and signifying another. ADEODATUS. You're right. I was wrong in answer­ ing that they are the same. AucusTI:-;L ::\ow answer this: does the person teaching what it is to teach do so by signifying, or in another way? ADEODATUS . I don't see how he can do it in an­ other way. AucUSTI:-;E. Then you stated a falsehood a little while ago, namely, that a thing can be taught without signs when the question is raised what teaching itself is. ::\ow we see that not even this can be done without signification, since you granted that signifying is one thing and teaching another: if they're different things, as they appear to be, and the latter is shown only through the former, then it isn't shown through itself, as you thought. So we haven't yet uncovered anything that can be exhibited through itself-except speaking, which also signifies it, among other things. Since speaking itself is also a sign, though, it isn't yet entirely apparent whether anything seems able to be taught without signs. ADEODATUS . I have no reason for not agreeing. [ 1 0 . 3 1 ] AccusTI:-;E. Then it has been established that nothing is taught without signs, and that knowl­ edge itself should be more valuable to us than the signs by means of which we know, although not all things signified can be superior to their signs. ADEODATUS. So it seems. Aucusn:-;E . I ask you - do you remember how circuitous was the path by which we finally reached such a slight result? Ever since we started bandying words with one another, which we've been doing for

28

Augustine,

354-430

a long time now, we have been working to find out these three things: whether anything can be taught without signs; whether certain signs should be pre­ ferred to the things they signifY; and whether knowl­ edge of things is itself better than the signs. Yet there is a fourth, and this I should like to know about from you briefly: whether you think of these discoveries in such a way that you can't now have doubts regarding them. ADEODATt;s. I should hope that by these great de­ tours and byways we have arrived at certainties! Yet somehow this question of yours disturbs me and keeps me from agreeing. I think you wouldn't have asked me this unless you had an objection to offer, and the in­ tricacy of these matters doesn't allow me to investigate the whole issue and answer with assurance. I fear there is something hidden in these great complexities that my mind is not keen enough to illuminate. AucusTI:--; E . I commend your hesitation; it be­ speaks a circumspect mind, and this is the greatest safeguard of tranquility. It's extremely difficult not to be perturbed when things we were holding with easy and ready approval are undermined by contrary argu­ ments and, as it were, are wrenched out of our hands. Accordingly, just as it is right to yield to arguments that have been thoroughly considered and scrutinized, so it is hazardous to regard what is unknown as known. There is a danger that when things we presume are go­ ing to stand firm and endure are regularly overturned, we fall into such a great hatred and mistrust of reason4{) it seems that confidence should not even be had in the plain truth itself. [ 1 0. 32] Well then, let's straightaway reconsider now whether you were correct in thinking that these things should be doubted. Consider this example. Suppose that someone unfamiliar with how to trick birds (which is done with reeds and birdlime) should run into a birdcatcher outfitted with his tools, not birdcatching but on his way to do so. On seeing this birdcatcher, he follows closely in his footsteps, and, as it happens, he reflects and asks himself in his astonishment what ex-

actly the man's equipment means. :\ow the bird­ catcher, wanting to show off after seeing the attention focused on him, prepares his reeds and with h is bird­ call and his hawk intercepts, subdues, and captures some little bird he has noticed nearby. I ask you: wouldn't he then teach the man watching him what he wanted to know by the thing itself rather than by anything that signifies? ADEODATUS. I'm afraid that everything here is like what I said about the man who asks what it is to walk. Here, too, I don't see that the whole of bird­ catching has been exhibited. At:GUSTI:--; E . It's easy to get rid of your worry. I add that he's so intelligent that he recognizes the kind of craft as a whole on the basis of what he has seen. It's surely enough for the matter at hand that some men can be taught about some things, even if not all, with­ out a sign. ADEODATUS. I also can add this to the other case! If he is sufficiently intelligent, he'll know the whole of what it is to walk, once walking has been illustrated by a few steps. AUGUSTI:--; E .47 You may do so as far as I'm con­ cerned; not only do I not offer any objection, I even support you! You see, each of us has established that some people can be taught some things without signs, and what seemed apparent to us a little earlier [ 1 0.293 1 ] - that there is absolutely nothing that can be shown without signs - is false. These examples already sug­ gest not one or another but thousands of things that are exhibited through themselves, without any sign being given. Why, I ask you, should we doubt this? For example (passing over the performances of men in all the the­ aters who display things themselves without a sign), doesn't God or :\ature show and display to those pay­ ing attention, by themselves, this sun and the light per­ vading and clothing all things present, the moon and the other stars, the lands and the seas, and the count­ less things begotten in them?

46. "Hatred and mistrust of reason": possibly "hatred and mistrust of argument"- in any event, a clear reference to Plato's discussion of 'misology' in Phaedo 89d-e.

47. Here Augustine begins his closing monologue, which occupies the last quarter of the work.

The Teacher

[Discussion of Division [2(b) ] ] [ 1 0 . 3 3 ] Well, i f we should consider this more care­ fully, perhaps you'll discover that nothing is learned through its signs. When a sign is given to me, it can teach me nothing if it finds me ignorant of the thi:1g of which it is the sign; but if I'm not ignorant, what do I learn through the sign? For example, when I read:48 . . . and their sarabarae were unchanged. the word doesn't show me the thing it signifies. If cer­ tain head-coverings are denominated by this name ['sarabarae'], have I learned upon hearing it what the head is or what coverings are? 1 knew these things be­ fore; my conception of them wasn't fashioned because they were named by others, but because I saw them. The first time the syllable 'head' struck my ears I was just as ignorant of what it signified as when I first heard or read 'sarabarae.' Yet since 'head' was often pronounced, noting and observing when it was pro­ nounced, I discovered that it was the term for a thing already familiar to me by sight. Before I made this dis­ covery, the word was a mere sound to me; but I learned that it was a sign when I found out of what thing it is the sign - and, as I said, I learned this not by anything that signifies but by its appearance. 'Therefore, a sign is learned when the thing is known, rather than the thing being learned when the sign is given. [ 10. 34] So that you may understand this more clearly, suppose that we hear 'head' now for the first time. :\ot knowing whether that utterance is a mere noise or also signifies something, we ask what 'head' is. ( Remember we want to have a conception not of the thing sig­ nified but of the sign itself, which we surely don't have as long as we don't know what it's the sign of. ) If, then, the thing is pointed out with the finger after we

48. Dan. 3 :94 (Vulgate) = 3:27 (Septuagint). (The Vul­ gate has sarabala rather than sarabara. ) I have left sara­ barae untranslated, since Augustine is employing a deliberately unfamiliar word to make his point. A good thing, too: the form and meaning of the word are ex­ tremely unclear.

29

raise the question, once it has been seen we learn the sign, which we had only heard and didn't know at that point. :\ow there are two elements in the sign: the sound and the signification. We don't perceive the sound by the sign, but when it strikes the ear. We perceive the signification, however, by seeing the thing signified. Aiming with the finger can only signify what the fin­ ger is aimed at, and it's aimed not at the sign but at the bodily part called the head. Consequently, by aiming the finger I can't know either the thing (which I knew already) or the sign (at which the finger isn't aimed). I don't much care about aiming with the finger, be­ cause it seems to me to be a sign of the pointing-out it­ self rather than of any things that are pointed out. It's like the exclamation 'look!' - we typically also aim the finger along with this exclamation, in case one sign of the pointing-out isn't enough. \'lost of all I'm trying to persuade you, if I'll be able to, that we don't learn anything by these signs called words. As I have stated, we learn the meaning of a word - that is, the signification hidden in the sound­ once the thing signified is itselfknown, rather than our perceiving it by means of such signification. [ 1 0 . 3 5 ] What I've said about 'head' I also might have said about 'coverings' (and about countless other things ! ) . Although I already knew them, I still don't yet know them to be sarabarae. If anyone should sig­ nify them to me with a gesture, or represent them, or show me something similar to them, I won't say that he didn't teach me-a claim I might easily maintain should I care to speak a little longer- but I do state something close to it: he didn't teach me with words. Even if he happens to see them when I'm around and should call them to my attention by saying "Look: sarabarae!" I wouldn't learn the thing I was ignorant of by the words that he has spoken, but by looking at it. This is the way it came to pass that I know and grasp what meaning the name has. When I learned the thing itself, I trusted my eyes, not the words of another­ though perhaps I trusted the words to direct my atten­ tion, that is, to find out what I would see by looking. [ 1 1 . 36] To give them as much credit as possible, words have force only to the extent that they remind us to look for things; they don't display them for us to know. Yet someone who presents what I want to know to my

30

Augustine,

3 54-43 0

eyes, or to any ofmy bodily senses, or even to my mind itself, does teach me something. From words, then, we learn only words - rather, the sound and noise of the words. If things that aren't signs can't be words, then although I have already heard a word, I don't know that it is a word until ! know what it signifies. Therefore, knowledge of words is made complete once the things are known. On the other hand, when words are [only] heard, not even the words are learned. We don't learn words we know. Also, we have to admit that we learn words we didn't know only after their signification has been perceived, and this happens not by hearing the mere sounds ut­ tered but by knowing the things signified. This is a truthful and solid argument: when words are spoken we either know what they signify or we don't; if we know, then it's reminding rather than learning; but if we don't know, it isn't even reminding, though per­ haps we recollect that we should inquire. [ 1 1 . 37] You may object: granted that (a) it's only by sight that we can know those head-coverings, whose name [ 'sarabarae'] we only take as a sound; and (b) we know the name itself more fully only when the things are themselves known. Yet we do accept the story of those boys -how they overcame King :\ebuchadnezzar and h is flames by their faith and religion, what praises they sang to God, and what honors they merited even from their enemy him­ self.49 Have we learned these things otherwise than by words? I reply to this objection that everything signified by those words was already known to us: I'm already fa­ miliar with what three boys are, what a furnace is, what fire is, what a king is, and finally what being un­ harmed by fire is, and all the other things that those words signif}·. Yet Ananias, Azarias, and \1isahel are just as unknown to me as the sarabarae, and these

49. Ananias, Azarias, and \1isahel were cast into a fiery furnace by King �ebuchadnezzar; because of their piety, God made the flames powerless to harm them, where­ upon they were hauled out, pardoned, and richly re­ warded by the king. This story is recounted in Daniel 3, where the word 'sarabarae' appears ( Septuagint 3 : 2 1 and 3:94; Vulgate 3 : 2 1 ) .

names didn't help me at all to know them, nor could they help me. I do admit that I believe rather than know that every­ thing we read in the story happened then just as it is written. Those whom we believe are themselves not unaware of the difference, for the Prophet says: 5° Unless you believe, you shall not understand. He surely would not have said this if he had thought there was no difference. Therefore, what I understand I also believe, but not everything I believe I also under­ stand. Again, everything I understand I know; not everything I believe I know. Hence I'm not unaware how useful it is to believe even many things I do not know, and I also include in this usefulness the story of the three boys. Accordingly, although the majority of things can't possibly be known by me, I still know how useful it is to believe them. 5 1 [ 1 1 . 38] Regarding each o f the things w e understand, however, we don't consult a speaker who makes sounds outside us, but the Truth that presides within over the mind itself, though perhaps words prompt us to consult Him. What is more, He Who is consulted, He Who is said to dwell in the inner man, 52 does teach: Christ- that is, the unchangeable power and everlast­ ing wisdom of God, 53 which every rational soul does consult, but is disclosed to anyone, to the extent that he can apprehend it, according to his good or evil will. 54 If at times one is mistaken, this doesn't happen 50. !sa. 7:9. The Vulgate has permanebitis in place ofAu­ gustine's intelligetis. 5 1 . Augustine expresses his point at the end of this para­ graph obscurely. Briefly: knowledge and understanding entail belief, but not conversely; belief, even when un­ accompanied by knowledge, can be useful (and one can know this last fact). The story of the three boys falls into the category of useful belief that is not knowledge. 52. Eph. 3 : 1 6- 1 7. 5 3 . I Cor. 1 :24. 54. In his early works Augustine is attracted to the idea that wisdom depends on moral rectitude: see On the True Religion 3.3, On Order 2.8.25, and Soliloquies 1 . 1 .2 (the last of which Augustine repudiates in Reconsiderations

The Teacher by means of a defect in the Truth consulted, just as it isn't a defect in light outside that the eyes of the body are often mistaken - and we admit that we consult this light regarding visible things, that it may show them :o us to the extent that we have the ability to make them out. [ 1 2 . 39] ;o..;ow, on the one hand, regarding colors we consult light, and regarding other things we sense through the body we consult the elements of this world, the selfsame bodies we sense, and the senses themselves that the mind employs as interpreters to know such things. On the other hand, regarding things that are understood we consult the inner Truth by means of reason. What then can be said to show that we learn something by words aside &om the mere sound that strikes the ears? Everything we perceive, we perceive either by one of the bodily senses or by the mind. We name the for­ mer sensible, the latter intelligible- or, to speak in the fashion of our authorities, carnal and spiritual. When we are asked about the former, we answer, so long as the things we sense are present at hand. For example, while looking at the new moon we're asked what sort of thing it is or where it is. In this case if the person raising the question doesn't see the object, he merely believes our words (and often he doesn't believe them ! ) . He doesn't learn at all unless he himself sees what is described, where he then learns not &om words but from the things themselves and his senses. Words make the same sounds for the one who sees the object as for the one who doesn't see it. When a question is raised not about things we sense at present but about things we sensed in the past, then we speak not of the things themselves but of the images impressed by them and committed to memory. I don't know how we state truths even though we look upon these false [images],55 unless it's because we re­ port not that we are seeing or sensing [the things them­ selves] , but that we have seen or sensed them. We carry

1 .4.2 for the obvious reason: non-Christians often seem to know quite a lot). ; ; . The images are "false" in that they are not the things themselves, but mere representations of the things them­ selves.

31

these images in the recesses of our memory in this way as certain attestations of things sensed previously. Contemplating them in the mind, we have the good conscience that we aren't lying when we speak. Yet they are proofs for us [alone] . If anyone hearing me was then present and sensed these things, he doesn't learn &om my words but knows them again &om the images stored away within himself. If he hasn't sensed them, isn't it obvious that he merely believes my words rather than learns &om them? [ I Z .40] When we deal with things that we perceive by the mind, namely, by the intellect and reason, we're speaking of things that we look upon immediately in the inner light of Truth, in virtue of which the so­ called inner man is illuminated and rejoices. Under these conditions our listener, if he likewise sees these things with his inward and undivided eye, knows what I'm saying from his own contemplation, not from my words. Therefore, when I'm stating truths, I don't even teach the person who is looking upon these truths. He's taught not by my words but by the things them­ selves made manifest within when God discloses them. 56 Hence if he were questioned, he could give answers even about these matters. What is more ab­ surd than thinking that he's taught by my speaking, when even before I spoke he could explain these very matters were he questioned? :\ow it often happens that someone denies some­ thing when questioned about it, and is brought around by further questions to admit it. This happens because of the weakness of his discernment. He can't consult that light regarding the whole matter. Yet he is prompted to do it part-by-part when he's questioned about the very parts that make up the whole, which he didn't have the ability to discern. If he's guided in this case by the words of his questioner, the words nevertheless do not teach him, but they raise questions in such a way that he who is questioned learns within, corre­ sponding to his ability to do so. For example, if I were to ask you about the very matter at issue, namely whether it's true that nothing can be taught by words, at first it would seem absurd to you, since you aren't able to examine it as a whole.

;6. See Confessions 1 1 . 3 . ; (page 72).

32

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3 54-430

It would therefore be necessary to ask you questions suited to your abilities to hear the Teacher within you. Thus I might say: "The things I'm saying that you ad­ mit to be truths, and that you're certain of, and that you affirm yourself to know- where did you learn them?" .\1aybe you would reply that I had taught them to you. Then I would rejoin: "What if! should say that I had seen a flying man? Do my words then make you as certain as if you were to hear that wise men are bet­ ter than fools?" Surely you would deny it and reply that you do not believe the former statement, or even if you did believe it that you do not know it; whereas you know the latter statement with utter certainty. As a re­ sult, you would then understand that you hadn't learned anything from my words, neither in the for­ mer case (where you did not know although I was as­ serting it) nor in the latter case (where you knew quite well), seeing that when questioned about each case you would swear the former was unknown and the lat­ ter known to you. Yet at that point you would be ad­ mitting the whole that you had [ initially] denied. You came to know that the [parts J in which it consists are clear and certain - namely, that whatever we may say, the hearer either (a) doesn't know whether it is true; (b) knows that it is false; or (c) knows that it is true. In (a) he either believes it or has an opinion about it or doubts it; in (b) he opposes and rejects it; in (c) he bears witness to the truth . Hence in none of these three cases does he learn. We have established that the one who doesn't know the thing, the one who knows that he has heard falsehoods, and the one who could when questioned have answered precisely what was said, have each clearly learned nothing from my words. l l 3 .4 1 ] Consequently, even in the case of matters dis­ cerned by the mind, anyone who can't discern them hears in vain the discourse of one who does, save that it's useful to believe such things so long as they aren't known. Yet anyone who can discern them is inwardly a student'; of Truth and outwardly a judge of the speaker, or rather of what he says. Often he knows

;7. For 'student' Augustine uses discipulus, derived from discere (to learn): this connection is lost in the translation.

what is said even when the speaker doesn't know it. For example, if anyone believing the Epicureans and thinking that the soul is mortal should set forth the ar­ guments for its immortality (discussed by more pru­ dent thinkers) in the hearing of someone able to look upon spiritual things, then he judges that the speaker is stating truths. The speaker is unaware that he's stat­ ing truths. Instead, he holds them to be completely false. Should it then be thought that he teaches what he doesn't know? Yet he uses the very same words that someone who does know also could use. [ 1 3 .42] Accordingly, words don't have even the mini­ mal function of indicating the speaker's mind, since it's uncertain whether he knows the truth of what he says. .\1oreover, in the case of liars and deceivers it's easy to understand that their minds are not only not re­ vealed but are even concealed by their words. I don't by any means doubt, of course, that the words of those who tell the truth attempt to make the speaker's mind evident and somehow declare it. They would accom­ plish this, everyone agrees, if liars were not permitted to speak. We have often had the experience in ourselves and in others, however, of words being uttered that don't correspond to the things thought about. I see that this can happen in two ways: (a) when a speech that has been committed to memory and often run through pours out of the mouth of someone thinking about other things, as frequently happens to us while we're singing a hymn; (b) when by a slip of the tongue some words rush out in place of others against our will, and here too signs are heard that aren't about the things we have in mind. ( Liars also think of the things they say, so that although we don't know whether they're speak­ ing the truth, we know that they have in mind what they're saying, should neither (a) nor (b) occur.) If any­ one contends that (a) and (b) occur only occasionally and that it's apparent when they occur, I make no ob­ jection, though they are often unnoticed and they have often deceived me upon hearing them. [ 1 3 .4 3] There is another class in addition to these, one that is widespread and the source of countless disagree­ ments and quarrels: when the speaker does signify the selfsame things he's thinking about, but for the most part only to himself and to certain others, whereas he

The Teacher doesn't signify the same thing to the person to whom he's speaking and again to several other persons. For example, let someone say in our hearing that man is surpassed in virtue by some brute animals. We immediately can't bear this, and with great vehemence we refute it as false and harmful. Yet perhaps he's call­ ing physical strength 'virtue' and enunciating what he was thinking about with this name. He would be nei­ ther lying nor in error about things. :'-ior is he reeling off words committed to memory while turning some­ thing else over in his mind. :\or does he utter by a slip of the tongue something other than he wanted. In­ stead, he's merely calling the thing he's thinking about by another name than we do; we should at once agree with him about it if we could look into his thinking, which he wasn't yet able to disclose to us by the words he had already uttered in expressing his view. They'" say that definitions can remedy this kind of error, so that in this case if the speaker were to define what 'virtue' is, he would make it plain, they say, that the dispute is over the word and not the thing. :\ow I might grant this to be so. Yet how many people can be found who are good at definitions? In any event, there are many arguments against the system of definitions, but it isn't opportune to discuss them here; nor do I al­ together approve them. [ 1 3 .44] I pass over the fact that there arc many things we don't hear clearly, and we argue forcefully at great length about them as if they were things we heard. For example, you were saying recently, Adeodatus, that al­ though I had asserted that mercy is signified by a cer­ tain Punic word, you had heard from those more familiar with this language that it signifies piety. Well, I objected to this, insisting that you completely forgot what you were told, because it seemed to me that you had said faith rather than piety- though you were sit­ ting right next to me, and these two names don't at all trick the ear by any similarity in sound. Yet for a long time I thought you didn't know what was said to you, whereas it was I who didn't know what you had said. If I had heard you clearly, it would never have seemed absurd to me that piety and mercy are named by a sin­ gle Punic word.

58. Augustine likely has in mind the Peripatetics here.

33

These things often happell. Let's pass over them, as I said, so that I not seem to be stirring up quibbles against words because of the carelessness of hearing, or even of men's deafness. The cases we listed above are more bothersome, where we can't know the thoughts of the speakers, though we speak the same language and the words are Latin and are clearly heard. [ I 3.4;] See here: I now give in and concede that when words are heard by someone who knows them, he can know that the speaker had been thinking about the things they signify. Yet does he for this reason also learn whether the speaker has stated truths, which is the question at hand? [ 14.4;] Do teachers hold that it is their thoughts that are perceived and grasped rather than the very disci­ plines they take themselves to pass on by speaking? Af­ ter all, who is so foolishly curious as to send his son to school to learn what the teacher thinks? When the teachers have explained by means of words all the dis­ ciplines they profess to teach, even the disciplines of virtue and of wisdom, then those who are called 'stu­ dents' consider within themselves whether truths have been stated. They do so by looking upon the inner Truth, according to their abilities. That is therefore the point at which they learn. When they inwardly dis­ cover that truths have been stated, they offer their praises - not knowing that they are praising them not as teachers but as persons who have been taught, if their teachers also know what they are saying. Men are mistaken in calling persons 'teachers' who are not, which they do because generally there is no delay be­ tween the time of speaking and the time of knowing; and since they arc quick to learn internally after the prompting of the lecturer, they suppose that they have learned externally from the one who prompted them. [ I 4.46 j At another time we shall, God willing, look into the whole problem of the usefulness of words­ which, if considered properly, is not negligible! For the present, I have prompted you that we should not attribute more to words than is suitable. As a result, we should by now not only believe but also begin to un­ derstand how truly it has been written on divine au­ thority that we should not call anyone on earth our teacher, since there is one in heaven Who is the Teacher ofall. Furthermore, He Himself will teach us what 'in

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heaven' is - He Who prompts us externally through men by means of signs, so that we are instructed to be inwardly turned toward Him. To know and love Him is the happy life which all proclaim they seek, al­ though there are few who may rejoice in having really found it. :\'ow I would like you to tell me what you think of this whole disquisition of mine. On the one hand, if you know that what has been said is true, then if you were questioned about each of the points you would have said that you knew them. Therefore, you see from Whom you have learned these points. It isn't from me. You would have given all the answers to me were I to have questioned you. On the other hand, if you don't know that what has been said is true, neither I nor He has taught you - not I, since I can never teach; not He, since you still are not able to learn.

ADEODATUS. For my part, I have learned from the prompting of your words that words do nothing but prompt man to learn, and that the extent to which the speaker's thought is apparent in h is speak­ ing amounts to very little. �oreover, I have learned that it is He alone who teaches us whether what is said is true-and, when He spoke externally, H e re­ minded us that He was dwelling within. With H is help, I shall love Him the more ardently the more I advance in learning. H owever, I'm especially grateful for this disquisi­ tion of yours, which you delivered without interrup­ tion, for this reason: it has anticipated and resolved everything that I had been prepared to say against it, and you didn't overlook anything at all that had pro­ duced a doubt in me; that private Oracle answered me about everything exactly as you stated in your words.

2 . On Free Choice of the Will Book 2 3. But if you don't mind, let's pose our questions in the following order. First, how is it manifest that God ex­ ists? Second, do all things, insofar as they are good, come from God' And finally, should free will be counted as one of those good things? Once we have answered those questions it will, I think, be clear whether free will ought to have been given to human beings. So to take something quite obvious as our start­ ing point, I will first ask you whether you yourself ex­ ist. Or do you perhaps fear that you might be mistaken even about that? Yet you could certainly not be mis­ taken unless you existed.

From Augustine, On Free Choice of the Will, tr. Thomas Williams (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1 994) . Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

Evomus. Yes; do go on. AucusTI:'\E. Well then, since it is obvious that you exist, and this could not be obvious unless you were alive, it is also obvious that you are alive. Do you un­ derstand that these two things are absolutely true' Evoo1us. I understand completely. At;cusTI�E. Then a third thing is obvious, namely, that you understand. Evomus. Yes. AucusTI:'\E. Which of these three do you think is superior? Evomus. Understanding. AUCUSTI�E. Why do you think so? Evomus. Because there are these three things: existence, life, and understanding. A stone exists, and an animal is alive, but I do not think that a stone is alive or an animal understands. But whatever under­ stands must certainly also exist and be alive. So I do not hesitate to conclude that something in which all

On Free Choice of the Will

three are present is superior to something that lacks any of them. For whatever is alive also exists, but it does not follow that it also understands; such, I think, is the life of an animal. But from the fact that sane­ thing exists it does not follow that it is alive and un­ derstands; for I can admit that corpses exist, but no one would say that they are alive. And whatever is not alive can certainly not understand. AUGUSTI:-.;E. So we hold that corpses lack two of these characteristics, animals lack one, and human beings lack none. Evomus. Yes. AUGUSTI:-.;E. And we hold that the most valuable of these three is the one that human beings have in ad­ dition to the other two, that is, understanding; for whatever understands must also exist and be alive. Evomus. Yes. AUGUSTI:-.;E. �ow tell me whether you know that you have the familiar bodily senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. EvoDius. I do. AUGUSTI:-.;E. What do you think pertains to the sense of sight? That is, what do you think we perceive by means of sight? Evomus. All material objects. AucuSTI:-.;E. But we don't sense hard and soft by sight, do we? Evomus. �o. AucuSTI:-.;E. So what object of perception pertains specifically to the eyes? Evomus. Color. AuGUSTI:-.;E. And to the ears? Evoon;s. Sound. AUGUSTI:-.;E. And to smell? Evomus. Odor. AucusTI:-.;E. And to taste? Evomus. Flavor. AucuSTI:-.;E. And to touch? Evoorus. Hard and soft, rough and smooth, and many such things. AucuSTI:-.;E. But what about the shapes of mate­ rial objects -large, small, square, round, and so on? Can't we perceive them both by touch and by sight? So they cannot be attributed exclusively to sight or to touch; they pertain to both.

35

Evoon;s. I understand that. AUGUSTI:-.;E. Then you also understand that some objects are perceived exclusively by one sense, while others can be perceived by more than one. Evomus. Yes. AucusTI:-.;E. But can we by any of our senses de­ termine what belongs to just one sense and what to more than one? Evom us. �at at all; we determine that by a kind of inner sense. AUGUST!:-.; E. But surely that inner sense is not rea­ son itself, which animals do not have. For it is, I think, by reason that we understand these things and recog­ nize that they are so. Evomus. Actually, I think that by reason we un­ derstand that we have a kind of inner sense to which everything is conveyed from those five familiar senses. An animal's sense of sight is one thing; the sense by which it either avoids or pursues what it sees is quite another. Sight is in the eyes; the other sense is in the soul. By it animals either pursue and accept what gives them pleasure or avoid and reject what gives them pain, whether these things are the objects of sight or of hearing or of the other bodily senses. This inner sense is itself neither sight nor hearing nor smell nor taste nor touch; it is some other thing that presides over all of them. Although we understand this sense by means of reason, as I said, we cannot identifY it with reason itself, since it is clearly present in beasts. Aucusn:-.;E. I agree that there is such a thing, and I do not hesitate to call it "the inner sense." But unless the things that the bodily senses convey to us get be­ yond the inner sense, we can never attain knowledge. For we know only what we grasp by reason . And we know, for example, that colors cannot be perceived by hearing nor sounds by sight. We do not know this by means of the eyes or ears, or by that inner sense, which even animals have. For we must not think that animals know that the ears cannot perceive light nor the eyes sound, since we come to know that only by rational at­ tention and thought. Evomus. I can't say that I quite see that. What if animals do in fact use that inner sense, which you ad­ mit they have, to judge that colors cannot be perceived by hearing nor sound by sight?

36

Augustine, 3 54-430 AucuSTI-.;E. Surely you do not think that they can

AucusTI-.;E. So whatever this thing is by which

distinguish between the color that is perceived, the sense that exists in the eyes, the inner sense within the

we perceive everything we know, it is an agent of rea­

soul, and reason, by which each of these is defined and

presents that to reason so that reason can delimit the

enumerated.

Evomus. �ot at all. AucusTI-.;E. Could reason thus distinguish be­

son. It takes whatever it comes into contact with and things that are perceived and grasp them by knowledge and not merely by sense.

tween these four things and provide them with defini­

Evomus. Yes. AUGUSTI-.;E. Then what about reason itself, which

tions unless each of them were in some way conveyed

distinguishes between its agents and the things that they

to reason? Color is conveyed to reason through the

convey, which understands the difference between it­

sense of the eyes; that sense in turn is conveyed

self and them, and which affirms that it is itself far more

through the inner sense that presides over it; and the

powerful than they are? Surely reason does not grasp it­

inner sense is conveyed through itself, at least if noth­

self by anything other than itself, that is, by anything

ing interferes.

other than reason. How else would you know that you

Evomus. I don't see how else it could be.

Auct:STI-.;E. Do you see that we perceive color by means of the sense of the eyes, but we do not perceive

had reason, unless you perceived it by reason?

Evomus. Quite right. AucusTI-.;E. �ow when we perceive color, we do

that sense by means of itself? For the sense that you use

not by that same sense perceive that we are perceiving.

to see color is not the same sense that you use to see

When we hear a sound, we do not hear our sense of

seeing itself.

hearing. When we smell a rose, we do not also smell

Evomus. :\ot at all. AucuSTI-.;E. Try to make a further distinction. I

our sense of smell. When we taste something, we do

believe you will not deny that color is one thing and

thing, we cannot also touch the sense of touch. It is

seeing color another; and it is yet another thing to have

therefore obvious that none of the five senses can per­

not also taste the sense of taste. When we touch some­

a sense by which one could see colors if they were

ceive itself, although all of them can perceive material

present, even though no colors do happen to be pres­

objects.

ent at the moment.

Evonn:s. That is obvious. 4. At;ctsn-.;r:. I think it is also obvious that not only

Evomus. I distinguish between these things and admit that each is different from the other two.

AuGUSTI-.;E. Which of these three do you see with your eyes? Is it not color?

Evomus. It is. ALGUSTI-.;r:. Then tell me how you see the other

does the inner sense perceive what it receives from the five bodily senses, but it also perceives the senses them­ selves. An animal would not move to pursue or flee from something unless it perceived the fact that it was perceiving, and it cannot perceive that fact by any of

two- for you could not distinguish between them un­

the five senses. This perception does not amount to

less you saw them.

knowledge, since only reason can produce knowl­

Evomus. I don't know how. I know that some such power exists, nothing more.

edge; but it does suffice to move the animal. :\'ow if this is still unclear, it will help if you consider one spe­

AtJGUSTI-.;F.. Then you don't know whether it is

cific sense. Take sight as an example. The animal

reason itself; or that life that we call the "inner sense,"

could never open its eyes and look around to find what

which surpasses the senses of the body; or some other

it wanted to see unless it perceived that it did not see

thing?

that thing with its eyes closed or stationary. But if it

Evomus. �o. Aucus·n-.;E. But you do know that reason alone

perceives that it does not see when it is not seeing, it

can define these things, and that reason can do this

because the same appetite that makes it look around

only for things that are presented to it for consideration.

Evomus. Certainly.

must also perceive that it does see when it is seeing, when it does not see makes it keep looking the same way when it does see. This shows that it perceives both.

On Free Choice of the Will But it is not so clear whether this l ife, which per­ ceives that it perceives material objects, also perceives itself-except that everyone who considers the matter will realize that every living thing flees from death. Since death is the opposite of life, it must be the case that life perceives itself, because it flees from its oppo­ site. But if this is not yet clear, disregard it, so that we can proceed to our goal solely on the basis of certain and obvious truths. The following truths are obvious: The bodily senses perceive material objects. No bod­ ily sense can perceive itself. The inner sense, however, perceives material objects through the bodily senses and also perceives the bodily senses themselves. And by reason all of these things, as well as reason itself, be­ come known and are part of knowledge. Don't you think so' Evomus. Yes. AUGUSTI'>."E. :'\ow then, what about this question we have already spent so much time trying to answer? 5. Evomus. As far as I remember, we are now deal­ ing with the first of the three questions that we posed a little while ago to give coherence and order to this discussion; that is, although we must firmly and stead­ fastly believe that God exists, how can this fact be made manifest? AucuSTI'>."E. Your memory serves you well. But I also want you to remember that when I asked you whether you knew that you yourself exist, we found that you knew not only this fact but two others. Evomus. I remember that too. AucUSTI'>."E. Which of the three includes every­ thing that the bodily senses perceive? That is, in which category do you think we should place everything that we perceive by means of the eyes or any other bodily organ: in that which merely exists, in that which is also alive, or in that which also understands? Evomus. In that which merely exists. AucuSTI'>."E. What about sense itself? To which category does it belong? EvoDIUS. To that which is alive. AucuSTI'>."E. Which of these two do you think is better: sense, or the thing that sense perceives? Evomus. Sense, of course. AucusTI'>."E. Why? Evomus. Because something that is alive is bet­ ter than something that merely exists.

37

AucusTI'>."E. Then what about the inner sense, which, as we found earlier, is lower than reason and is present both in us and i n animals? Do you doubt that it is superior to the sense by which we perceive mate­ rial objects, which is in turn superior to those material objects? Evomus. :'-:ot at all. AucusTI'>."E. I want you to tell me why not. You can't very well say that the inner sense belongs to the category of things that understand; it belongs to the category of things that exist and are alive but lack un­ derstanding. For the inner sense is present even in an­ imals, which lack understanding. Given that, I ask why you consider the inner sense superior to the sense by which we perceive material objects, since both be­ long to the category of things that are alive. You said that the sense that perceives material objects is supe­ rior to the objects that it perceives, because material objects belong to the category of things that merely ex­ ist, whereas sense belongs to the category of things that are also alive; but since the inner sense also belongs to this category, tell me why you think it is better. Perhaps you will say that this is because the inner sense per­ ceives the bodily senses, but I don't think you are go­ ing to find any trustworthy rule stating that whatever perceives is better than the thing perceived. Such a rule might force us to say that whatever understands is better than the thing understood, which is false; hu­ man beings understand wisdom, but they are not bet­ ter than wisdom. Therefore, see if you can explain why you thought that the inner sense is superior to the sense by which we perceive material objects. Evonn;s. I think so because I know that the inner sense is a kind of controller or judge of the bodily sense. If the bodily sense falls short in performing its duty, the inner sense demands that its agent make good on this debt, as we discussed a little while ago. The sense of the eye does not see whether it is seeing or not, and so it cannot judge what it lacks or what is enough. That is the job of the inner sense, which warns even the soul of an animal to open its eyes and make up for what it perceives is missing. And everyone realizes that the judge is superior to the thing judged. AucuSTI'>."E. Do you also realize that the bodily sense also judges material objects in a certain way? For it feels pleasure or pain, depending on whether it is

38

Augustine,

354-430

affected gently or harshly by the material object. Just as the inner sense judges what is adequate or inade­ quate in the sense of the eyes, so the sense of the eyes judges what is adequate or inadequate in colors. In the same way, just as the inner sense judges whether our hearing is sufficiently attentive or not, hearing itself judges whether sounds are pleasant or unpleasant. There's no need to go on to the other senses. I believe you already understand what I am trying to say: just as the inner sense judges the bodily senses when it ap­ proves their completeness or demands what is lacking, so the bodily senses judge material objects by accept­ ing what is pleasing and rejecting what is not. Evomus. I understand, and I concede that all of this is quite true. 6. AucuSTI:\"E. Our next subject is whether reason judges the inner sense. I won't ask whether reason is better than the inner sense, since I have no doubt that you think it is. And actually, I don't think we even need to ask whether reason judges the inner sense. Just consider all we know about the things that are below reason: material objects, the bodily senses, and the in­ ner sense. How could we know that one is better than another, and that reason is more excellent than any of them, unless reason itself told us? And reason could not tell us this unless it judged all of these things. Evomcs. Clearly. AuctJSTI:\"E. So a nature that has existence but not life or understanding, l ike an inanimate body, is infe­ rior to a nature that has both existence and life but not understanding, l ike the souls of animals; and such a thing is in turn inferior to something that has all three, like the rational mind of a human being. Given that, do you think that you could find anything in us - that is, anything that is part of our human nature - more excellent than understanding? It is clear that we have a body, as well as a sort of life by which the body is an­ imated and nourished; both of these we find in ani­ mals. We also have a third thing, like the head or eye of the soul, or however reason and understanding might be more aptly described; and this, animals do not have. So I ask you: can you think of anything in human nature more exalted than reason? Evom us. �othing at all. AucusTI:\"E. What if we could find something that you were certain not only exists, but is more ex-

cellent than our reason? Would you hesitate to say that this thing, whatever it is, is God? Evomus. Even if I found something better than the best part of my nature, I would not immediately say that it was God. What I call 'God' is not that to which my reason is inferior, but that to which nothing is superior. AucusTI:\"E. You're quite right, for God himself has enabled your reason to think so piously and cor­ rectly about him. But if you found nothing above our reason except what is eternal and unchangeable, would you hesitate to call that 'God'? For you know that material objects are changeable. It is obvious that the life by which the body is animated changes from one condition to another. And reason itself is clearly changeable: sometimes it strives for the truth and sometimes it doesn't; sometimes it attains the truth and sometimes it doesn't. If reason - not by any phys­ ical organ, not by touch or taste or smell, not by the ears or eyes or any sense inferior to itself, but by itself alone - sees something eternal and unchangeable, then it should confess that it is inferior, and that the eternal and unchangeable thing is its God. Evomus. If we find that to which nothing is su­ perior, I will certainly confess that it is God. AccusTI:\"E. Good. Then it will be enough for me to show that something of this sort exists, which you can admit to be God; or if something yet higher exists, you will concede that it is God. Therefore, whether there is something higher or not, it will be manifest that God exists, when I with his help fulfill my promise to prove that there is something higher than reason. Evomus. Then show me your proof. 7. AljGUSTI:\"E. I shall. But first I ask whether my bod­ ily sense is the same as yours, or whether mine and yours are distinct. If they were not distinct, I could not see anything that you didn't see. Evomus. I quite agree. We have the same sort of senses, but we each have our own individual sense of sight and hearing and so on. ;..;ot only can one person see what another does not, but the same is true of h ear­ ing and each of the other senses. This clearly shows that my sense is distinct from your sense. AuGUST!:\" E. Would you say the same thing about the inner sense?

On

Free Choice of the Will

39

Evomus. Of course . .\1y inner sense perceives my

I do not inhale the same part of the air or eat the same

sense; yours perceives your sense. Other people often

part of the food as you. Of the total quantity of air, I breathe in one part that is enough for me, and you

ask me whether I see what they see, precisely because they do not perceive, as I do, whether I see it or not. AUGUSTI:\"E. Then what about reason? Doesn't

each of us have his own reason? For it sometimes hap­ pens that I understand something that you don't un­ derstand. And you can't know whether I understand it, whereas I do know that I understand it. Evomus. Clearly each of us possesses a distinct rational mind . AucusTI:\"E. :-.iow each of us has his own sense of

sight. But surely you wouldn't say that each of us has a private sun that he alone sees, or personal moons and stars and things of that sort. Evomus. Of course not. AucusTI:\"E. Then many of us can see a single thing at the same time, although each of us sees it with

breathe in another part that is enough for you. And al­ though we both partake of the same total quantity of food, we cannot both eat all of it, in the way that we can both hear all of the same word or see all of the same form at the same time. In the case of food or drink one part must enter my body and another part must enter yours. Do you understand this somewhat? Evomus. Actually, I agree that this is quite straightforward and certain. AucusTI:\"E. Surely you don't think that the sense of touch is like sight or hearing in this respect. Not

only can we both touch one object, but you can touch the very same part that I touched. Thus, by the sense of touch we can both perceive not only the same ob­ ject, but the same part of the object. We cannot take

his own individual sense. Thus, although your sense is distinct from my sense, it can happen that what you see

the same quantity of food and both eat all of it, but this

is not distinct from what I see, but is a single thing that

what I touched. Thus, we need not confine ourselves

is present to both of us and is seen by both of us at once. Evomus. That is quite obvious.

to touching separate parts of an object; we can both

is not true of the sense of touch: you can touch all of

touch all of it.

AL.:GUSll:\"E. We can also both hear the same sound

Evomcs. In this respect, I admit, the sense of

at the same time. Thus, although my sense of hearing is distinct from yours, we do not hear two distinct

touch is quite similar to sight and hearing. But I see one difference. We can both see or hear all of some­

sounds at the same time, and we do not each hear just

thing at the same time; but we can only touch differ­

part of the sound. Rather, there is one sound that is

ent parts of something at the same time, or the same

present as a whole to both of us at the same time. Evomus. That is obvious too.

part of something at different times. For if you are

AUGlJSTI:\"E. You will notice that in this respect

touching something, I cannot touch it until you cease to touch it.

the other bodily senses are not quite the same as sight

At:ct:s-n:-.-E. A very astute reply. But notice this:

and hearing, but they arc not totally dissimilar either.

there arc, as we have seen, some objects of percep­

You and I can both breathe the same a i r and perceive

tion that both of us perceive, and some that we per­

its odor, and in the same way we can both taste the

ceive individually. But we perceive our own senses

same honey, or some other food or drink, and perceive

individually- I don't perceive yours and you don't

its flavor. Although there is only one object of percep­

perceive mine. :\"ow as for the things that we perceive

tion, we both have our own separate and distinct

by our bodily senses - that is, material objects- those

senses. Thus, when we both perceive one odor and

that we must perceive individually are precisely those

one flavor, you do not perceive with my sense nor I

that we take and transform into a part of ourselves. Food and drink are like this: you can't taste any part

with yours. And we do not share one sense between us; I have mine and you have yours, even if we are both

that I have already tasted. :\urses give young children

perceiving the same odor or flavor. So in this respect

food that has already been chewed, but the part

taste and smell are like sight and hearing.

that has already been tasted and digested by the one

But in another respect they are quite different.

who chewed it can in no way be recalled and used as

Even if we smell the same air or taste the same food,

food for the child. When the palate tastes something

40

Augustine,

3 54-430

pleasant, however small, i t claims that thing as an ir­

own reason and understanding. Some can grasp i t

revocable part of itself and forces it to conform to the

more easily than others can, but i t offers itself equally

nature of the body. If this were not so, no taste would

to all who are capable of grasping it; unlike food, it is

remain in the mouth after the food had been chewed

not transformed into a part of the one who perceives

and spat out. The same is true of the parts of the air that we in­ hale through the nose. Doctors teach that we take in

it. It is not at fault when someone makes a mistake; it remains true and complete, but the less one sees it, the greater is one's mistake.

nourishment through the nose. But even if you can in­

AucusTI�E. Quite right. Your quick reply shows

hale some of the air that I exhale, you can't inhale the

that you are well acquainted with this subject. But sup­ pose that someone told you that numbers are l ike im­

part that nourished me, because it must remain within me. Only I can inhale that nourishment, and I cannot

ages of visible things, that they are stamped on the

exhale it and give it back for you to breathe.

soul, not by their own nature, but by the things that we perceive by the bodily senses. How would you re­

There are other objects of perception that we per­ ceive without transforming them into parts of our body and thereby destroying them. These are the things that

spond? Would you agree? Evomus. ::\ot at all. Even if numbers were per­

both of us can perceive, either at the same time or at

ceived by the bodily senses, it would not follow that

different times, in such a way that both of us perceive

could also perceive the rules of addition and subtrac­ tion by the bodily senses. It is by the light of the mind

the whole object or the same part of the object. Among such things are light, sound, and any material object

I

that we touch but leave intact.

that I refute someone who makes a mistake in adding or subtracting. \1oreover, when I perceive something

Evomus. I understand.

with the bodily sense, such as the earth and sky and the

AucuSTI�E. Then it is clear that the things we

other material objects that I perceive in them, I don't

perceive but don't transform do not belong to the na­

know how much longer they are going to exist. But I

ture of our senses, and so we have them in common,

do know that seven plus three equals ten, not just now,

since they do not become our own private property, as

but always; it never has been and never will be the case that seven plus three does not equal ten. I therefore

it were. Evooius. I quite agree.

said that this incorruptible truth of number is com­

AucusTI�E. By 'our own private property' I mean

mon to me and all who think.

whatever belongs to us individually, that which is per­

AccuSTI�E. Your reply is perfectly true and quite

ceived by only one of us and belongs to the individ­

certain, so I make no objection. But you will easily see

ual's own nature. By 'common and public property' I mean whatever can be perceived by everyone without

that numbers are not perceived by the bodily senses if you notice that each number is named on the basis of

any change or transformation.

how many times it contains one. For example, if it

Evomus. Agreed.

8. AUGUST!� E . Well then, tell me this. Can you think

contains one twice, i t is called 'two,' if three times,

of anything that is common to all who think? I mean

'three,' and if ten times, 'ten.' For any number at all, its name will be the number of times that it contains

something that they all see with their own reason or

one. But anyone who thinks correctly will surely find

mind, that is present to all but is not converted to the

that one cannot be perceived by the bodily senses.

private use of those to whom it is present, as food and

Anything that is perceived by such a sense is clearly

drink are, that remains unchanged and intact whether

not one but many, for it is a material object and there­

they see it or not. Or do you perhaps think that noth­

fore has countless parts. I won't even go into the minute and less complex parts, for any material object,

ing like this exists? Evomus. Actually, I see that there are many such

however small, surely has a right and a left, a top and

things, but it will suffice to mention just one. The or­

a bottom, a near side and a farther side, ends and a

der and truth of number is present to all who think, so

middle. We must admit that these parts are present i n

that those who make calculations try to grasp it by their

any material object, however tiny, a n d s o w e must con-

On Free Choice ofthe Will cede that no material object is truly and simply one. And yet we could not enumerate so many parts unless we had some knowledge of what one is. For if I look for one in material objects and know that I have not found it, I must surely know what I was looking for and what I did not find there; indeed, I must know that it cannot be found there, or rather, that it is not there at all. And yet, if I did not know one, I could not distin­ guish many parts in material objects. So where did I come to know this one that is not a material object? Wherever it was, I did not come to know it through the bodily senses; the only things we know through the bodily senses are material objects, which we have found are not truly and simply one. .Moreover, if we do not perceive one by the bodily sense, then we do not perceive any number by that sense, at least of those numbers that we grasp by the understanding. For every single one of them gets its name from the number of times that it contains one, which is not perceived by the bodily sense. The two halves of any material object together constitute the whole, but each half can in tum be divided in half. Thus, those two parts are in the object, but they are not strictly speaking two. But the number that is called 'two' contains twice that which is strictly speaking one. Thus, its half- that which is strictly speaking one- cannot be further subdivided, because it is simply and truly one. After one comes two, which is two times one; but it does not follow that after two comes two times two. The next number is three, and then comes four, which is two times two. This order extends to all numbers by a fixed and unchangeable law. Thus, the first number af­ ter one (which is the first of all numbers) is two, which is two times one. The second number after two (which is the second number) is two times two -since the first number after two is three and the second number is four, which is two times two. The third number after three (which is the third number) is two times three­ since the first number after three is four, the second number is five, and the third number is six, which is two times three. And the fourth number after the fourth number is twice that number; for the first number af­ ter four (which is the fourth number) is five, the sec­ ond number is six, the third number is seven, and the fourth number is eight, which is two times four. And in all the rest you will find the same order that we found

41

i n the first two: however fa r any number i s from the be­ ginning, its double is in turn that far after it. So we see that this order is fixed, secure, and un­ changeable for all numbers. But how do we see this? :\"o one perceives all the numbers by any bodily sense, for there are infinitely many of them. So where did we learn that this order extends to all of them? By what image or phantasm do we see so confidently this in­ disputable truth about number, which extends through infinitely many numbers? We see it by an inner light of which the bodily sense knows nothing. For those inquirers to whom God has given the ability, whose judgment is not clouded by stubborn­ ness, these and many other such examples suffice to show that the order and truth of numbers has noth­ ing to do with the senses of the body, but that it does exist, complete and immutable, and can be seen in common by everyone who uses reason. Now there are many other things that are present generally and publicly, as it were, to those who use reason, and these things remain inviolate and unchangeable even though they are perceived separately by the mind and reason of each person who perceives them. Nonethe­ less, I do not object to the fact that the order and truth of number struck you most forcibly when you under­ took to answer my question. It is no accident that Scripture associates number with wisdom: "I went around, I and my heart, that I might know and con­ sider and seek after wisdom and number."1 9. But then how do you think we ought to regard wis­ dom itself' Do you think that each human being has his own personal wisdom? Or, on the contrary, is there one single wisdom that is universally present to every­ one, so that the more one partakes of this wisdom, the wiser one is? Evonn;s . I am not yet altogether certain what you mean by 'wisdom,' since I see that people have different views about what counts as wise in speech or action. Those who serve in wars think that they are acting wisely. Those who despise the military and devote their care and labor to farming think more highly of what they do, and call it wise. Those who are clever in thinking up money-making schemes consider

I . Eccles. 7:2;.

42

Augustine,

3 )4-430

themselves wise. Those who neglect or renounce all of this, and everything that is temporal, and devote all of their energy to searching for the truth so that they might come to know themselves and God, judge that their own actions are truly wise. Those who do not wish to give themselves up to the leisure of seeking and con­ templating the truth but instead busy themselves with the tedious duties of looking after the interests of hu­ man beings, and work to ensure that human affairs are justly regulated and governed, think that they are wise. And then again, those who do both, who spend some of their time in contemplating the truth and some of their time in the tedious duties that they think are owed to human society, regard themselves as the winners in the competition for wisdom. I won't even mention the countless sects, each of which holds that its own ad­ herents are superior to everyone else, and that they alone are wise. Therefore, since we have agreed to an­ swer only on the basis of what we clearly know, and not on the basis of what we merely believe, I cannot answer your question unless, in addition to believing, I know by reason and reflection what wisdom is. AucusTI -.;E. But don't you think that wisdom is nothing other than the truth in which the highest good is discerned and acquired? All the different groups you mentioned seek good and shun evil; what divides them is that each has a different opinion about what is good. So whoever seeks what ought not to be sought is in error, even though he would not seek it unless he thought it was good. On the other hand, those who seek nothing at all, or who seek what they ought to seek, cannot be in error. Therefore, insofar as all human beings seek a happy life, they are not in er­ ror; but to the extent that someone strays from the path that leads to happiness - all the while insisting that his only goal is to be happy-to that extent he is in error, for 'error' simply means following something that doesn't take us where we want to go.2 .\'ow the more one strays from the right path in life, the less wise one is, and so the further one is from the truth in which the highest good is discerned and ac-

2. The root meaning of the Latin word errare is "to stray from one's path, to lose one's way," but it was commonly extended to include moral and intellectual error.

qui red. But when one follows and attains the highest good, one becomes happy; and that, as we all agree, is precisely what we want. And so, just as it is obvious that we all want to be happy, it is also obvious that we all want to be wise, since no one can be happy without wisdom. For no one is happy without the highest good, which is discerned and acquired in the truth that we call 'wisdom.' Therefore, j ust as there is a notion of happiness stamped on our minds even before we are happy - for by means of that notion we know confi­ dently and say without hesitation that we want to be happy-so we have the notion of wisdom stamped on our minds even before we are wise. By means of that notion all of us, if asked whether we want to be wise, answer yes, without the slightest hesitation. :\'ow that we have agreed about what wisdom is, al­ though perhaps you could not explain it in words (for if your soul could not perceive wisdom at all, you would have no way of knowing both that you will to be wise and that you ought to will this, which I feel sure you won't deny), I want you to tell me whether wisdom, like the order and truth of number, is a sin­ gle thing that presents itself to all who think; or rather, just as there are as many minds as there are human be­ ings, so that I can see nothing of your mind and you can see nothing of mine, so there are as many wisdoms as there are potentially wise persons. Evomus. If the highest good is one thing for everyone, then the truth in which that good is dis­ cerned and acquired must also be one thing that is common to all. AuctJSTI-.;r:. But do you doubt that the highest good, whatever it is, is one thing for all human beings? Evoon;s. Yes I do, because I see that different people take joy in different things as their highest good. Auctsn-.;E. I only wish that people were as cer­ tain about what the highest good is as they are about the fact that human beings cannot be happy unless they attain it. But that is a great question and might re­ quire a long discussion, so let's assume that there are as many different highest goods as there are different things that various people seek as their highest good. Surely it does not follow from that assumption that wisdom itself is not one and common to all, simply be­ cause the goods that human beings discern and choose in it are many and various. That would be like think-

On Free Choice of the Will ing that there must be more than one sun, simply be­ cause we perceive many and various things by its light. What in fact happens is that each person uses the will to choose which ofthese many things to enjoy looking at. One person prefers to look upon the height of a mountain, and rejoices at the sight, while another chooses the flatness of a plain, another the hollow of a valley, another the verdure of a forest, another the pulsing tranquility of the sea, and another uses some or all of these at once to contribute to his pleasure in seeing. And so there are many and various things that human beings see in the light of the sun and choose for their enjoyment, even though the light itself is a single thing in which each person's gaze sees and pur­ sues what he will enjoy. So even supposing that there are many and various goods from which each person chooses what he wants, and that by seeing and pursu­ ing that thing he rightly and truly constitutes it his highest good, it is still possible that the light of wis­ dom, in which those things can be seen and pursued, is a single thing, common to all the wise. Evomus. I admit that it is possible; there's no rea­ son why wisdom can't be a single thing common to all, even if there are many diverse highest goods. But I would like to know whether it is really so. Just because we admit that it's possible, we can't conclude that it is in fact the case. Auct:STI :--; E . So, for the time being at least, we hold that wisdom exists; but we don't yet know whether it is a single thing that is common to all, or whether each wise person has his own wisdom, just as he has his own soul and his own mind. F.vomt;s. Exactlv. I 0. At:ct:s-n:--; F . So we are agreed that wisdom exists, or at least that wise people exist, and that all human beings want to be happy. But where do we see this truth? For I have no doubt that you do see it, or that it is in fact true. Do you see this truth in the same way that you see your own thoughts, of which I am com­ pletely unaware unless you tell me about them? Or can I see it too, just as you understand it, even if I hear nothing about it from you' Evomus. Clearly, you can see it too, even if I don't want you to. AucuSTI'\;E. So this one truth, which each of us sees with his own mind, is common to both of us.

43

Evomus. Obviously. By the same token, I don't think you will deny that wisdom should be diligently sought af­ ter, and that this statement is in fact true. Evomus. I am quite sure of that. AucusTI'\;E. Then this truth is a single truth that can be seen in common by all who know it. None­ theless, each person sees it with his own mind - not with yours or mine or anyone else's - even though the truth that is seen is present in common to everyone who sees it. Evomus. Exactly. Aucusn:--; E. Consider the following truths: one ought to live justly; inferior things should be subjected to superior things; like should be compared with like; everyone should be given what is rightly his. Don't you agree that these are true, and that they are present in common to me and you and all who see them? Evom us. Yes. AucusTI'\;E. And you surely could not deny that the uncorrupted is better than the corrupt, the eternal than the temporal, and the invulnerable than the vul­ nerable. Evomus. Could anyone? AuGUSTI'\;E. Can anyone say that this truth is his own private possession, given that it is unchangeably present to be contemplated by all who are able to con­ template it? EvooiUS. :\' o one could rightly say that it is his own, since it is as much one and common to all as it is true. AUGlJSTI'\;E. Again, who would deny that one should turn one's soul from corruption to incorrup­ tion; or in other words, that one should not love cor­ ruption but rather incorruption? And who, admitting that this is true, would not also understand that this truth is unchangeable and see that it is present in com­ mon to every mind that is capable of perceiving it? Evomus. You're quite right. AucusTI'\;E. And does anyone doubt that a life that cannot be swayed by any adversity from its fixed and upright resolve is better than one that is easily weakened and overthrown by transitory misfortunes? Evomus. Who could doubt that? Aucusn:--; E . Then I won't look for more truths of this sort. It is enough that you too understand and concede that it is most certain that these rules, these AuGUST!'\; E.

44

Augustine,

3 54-430

lights of the virtues, are both true and unchangeable, and that they are present, either individually or col­ lectively, to those who are able to see and contemplate them with their own mind and reason. But of course I must now ask whether you think that these truths are a part of wisdom. I 'm sure you think that those who have attained wisdom are wise. Evomus. Of course. AucusTI:\"E. Then consider those who live justly. Could they live thus unless they saw which inferior things to subject to which superior things, which like things to join to which, and which things to distribute to their rightful owners? Evomus. :\o. AucusTI-.;E. And surely you will agree that some­ one who sees these things sees wisely. Evomus. Yes. At:GUSTI:\"E. :\ow consider those who live in ac­ cordance with prudence. Do they not choose incor­ ruption and recognize that it is to be preferred to corruption? Evomus. Obviously. AccLJSTI:\"E. So when they choose the very thing that everyone admits they ought to choose, and turn their souls toward it, can it be denied that they choose wisely? Evomus. I would certainly not deny it. Auct;sTI:\"E. So when they turn their souls toward that which they have wisely chosen, they are certainly turning them wisely. Evomus. Absolutely. Acccs·n-.;E. And those who are not deterred by any fear or punishment from that which they have wisely chosen, and toward which they have wisely turned, are undoubtedly acting wisely. Evomcs. Undoubtedly. AucusTI:\"E. Then it is utterly obvious that all of these truths that we called "rules" and "lights of the virtues" are part of wisdom, since the more one follows them and leads one's life by them, the more one lives and acts wisely. And whatever is done wisely cannot rightly be considered separate from wisdom. Evomus. Exactly. AucusTJ-.;E. So, just as there are true and un­ changeable rules of numbers, whose order and truth

you said are present unchangeably and in common to everyone who sees them, there are also true and un­ changeable rules of wisdom. When I asked you about a few of these rules one by one, you replied that they are true and obvious, and you conceded that they are present in common to be contemplated by all who are capable of seeing them. 1 1 . Evomus. I am quite certain of that. But I would very much like to know whether wisdom and number are both included in one single class. For as you have pointed out, wisdom and number are associated with each other even in Holy Scripture. Or perhaps one de­ rives from the other or is contained in the other; for example, perhaps number derives from wisdom or is contained in wisdom. I wouldn't dream of saying that wisdom is derived from number or is contained in number. I don't know how that could be, for I have certainly known my share of mathematicians (or what­ ever you call those who are highly skilled at computa­ tion), but I have known very few who are wise­ perhaps none at all - and wisdom strikes me as being far nobler than number. AucuSTI:\" E . You have touched on a point that of­ ten astonishes me as well. For when I contemplate within myself the unchangeable truth of numbers and their lair (so to speak) and inner sanctuary or realm ­ o r whatever else we might call their dwelling-place and home - 1 am far removed from material objects. I may, perhaps, find something that I can think about, but nothing that I can express in words. So in order to be able to say anything at all, I return in fatigue to fa­ miliar things and talk in the customary way about what is right in front of me. The same thing happens to me when I think as carefully and intently as I can about wisdom. So, given the fact that both wisdom and num­ ber are contained in that most hidden and certain truth, and that Scripture bears witness that the two are joined together, I very much wonder why most people consider wisdom valuable but have little re­ spect for number. They are of course one and the same thing. :\evertheless, Scripture says of wisdom that "it reaches from end to end mightily and disposes all things sweetly."3 Perhaps the power that "reaches from

3. Ws 8:1.

On Free Choice of the Will end to end mightily" is number, and the power that "disposes all things sweetly" is wisdom in the strict sense, although both powers belong to one and the same wisdom. Every material object, however mean, has its num­ bers; but wisdom was granted, not to material objects or even to all souls, but only to rational souls, as if it set up in them a throne from which to dispose all the things, however lowly, to which it gave numbers. But wisdom gave numbers to everything, even to the lowli­ est and most far-flung things. Thus, since we perceive the numbers that are stamped upon them, we can eas­ ily make judgments about material objects as things ordered lower than ourselves. Consequently, we come to think that numbers themselves are also lower than we are, and we hold them in low esteem. But when we begin to look above ourselves again, we find that num­ bers transcend our minds and remain fixed in the truth itself. And since few can be wise, but even fools can count, people marvel at wisdom but disparage num­ ber. But the learned and studious, as they separate themselves more and more from earthly filth, come to see ever more clearly that wisdom and number are united in the truth itself, and they regard both as pre­ cious. In comparison with that truth, they consider everything else worthless - not just the silver and gold that human beings covet, but their very selves. It should not surprise you that people honor wis­ dom and denigrate numbers, simply because it is eas­ ier to count than to be wise. For you see that they consider gold more precious than lamplight- and yet, in comparison with light, gold is a ridiculous trifle. People give greater honor to what is vastly inferior, simply because even a beggar has a lamp to light, while few have gold. I don't mean to imply that wis­ dom is inferior to number, for they are the same thing; but one needs an eye that can perceive that fact. Con­ sider this analogy: light and heat are both perceived consubstantially, as it were, in the same fire; they can­ not be separated from each other. Yet the heat affects only the things that are nearby, while the light is radi­ ated far and wide. In the same way, the power of un­ derstanding that inheres in wisdom warms the things that are closest to it, such as rational souls; whereas things that are further off, such as material objects, are

45

not touched by the heat of wisdom, but they are flooded with the light of numbers. This matter may still be unclear to you; after all, no visible image can be perfectly analogous to something invisible. None­ theless, you should notice this one point, which will suffice to answer the question that we set out to con­ sider, and which is obvious even to lowly minds like ours. Even if we cannot be certain whether number is a part of wisdom or is derived from wisdom, or whether wisdom itself is a part of number or is derived from number, or whether both are names for a single thing, it is certainly clear that both are true, and in­ deed unchangeably true. 1 2. So you cannot deny the existence of an un­ changeable truth that contains everything that is un­ changeably true. And you cannot claim that this truth is yours or mine or anyone else's; it is present and re­ veals itself in common to all who discern what is un­ changeably true, l ike a l ight that is public and yet strangely hidden. But if it is present in common to all who reason and understand, who could think that it belongs exclusively to the nature of any one of them? I'm sure you remember what we discussed earlier about the bodily senses. The things that we perceive in common by the sense of the eyes and ears, such as colors and sounds that both of us see or hear, do not belong to the nature of our eyes or ears; rather, they are present in common for both of us to perceive. So you would never say that the things that you and I both perceive, each with his own mind, belong to the na­ ture of my mind or of yours. When two people see the same thing with their eyes, you cannot say that they are seeing the eyes of one or the other of them, but some third thing at which both of them are looking. Evcmn:s. That is quite obviously true. At:Gt:SlT\E. Well then, what do you think of this truth we have been discussing for so long, in which we see so many things? Is it more excellent than our minds, or equal to them, or even inferior to them? If it were inferior, we would make judgments about it, not in accordance with it, just as we make judgments about material objects because they are below us. We often say, not just that they are a certain way, but that they ought to be that way. The same is true of our souls: we often know, not merely that they are a certain way,

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but that they ought to be that way. We make such judg­ ments about material objects when we say that some­ thing is not as white as it ought to be, or not as square, and so on. But we say that a soul is less capable than it ought to be, or less gentle, or less forceful, depending on our own character. We make these judgments in accordance with the inner rules of truth, which we per­ ceive in common; but no one makes judgments about those rules. When someone says that eternal things are better than temporal things, or that seven plus three equals ten, no one says that it ought to be so. We sim­ ply recognize that it is so; we are like explorers who re­ joice in what they have discovered, not like inspectors who have to put things right. Furthermore, if this truth were equal to our minds, it too would be changeable. For our minds see the truth better at some times than at others, which shows that they are indeed changeable. But the truth makes no progress when we see it better and suffers no set­ back when we see it less. It remains whole and unde­ filed, giving the joy of its light to those who turn toward it but inflicting blindness on those who turn away. Why, we even make judgments about our own minds in accordance with that truth, while we can in no way make judgments about it. We say that a mind does not understand as much as it ought to, or that it under­ stands just as much as it ought to. And the more a mind can be turned toward the unchangeable truth and cleave to it, the more it ought to understand. lberefore, since the truth is neither inferior nor equal to our minds, we can conclude that it is superior to them and more excellent than they are. 1 3 . But I had promised, if you recall, that I would prove that there is something more sublime than our mind and reason. Here it is: the truth itself. Embrace it, if you can; enjoy it; "delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart."4 What more can you desire than happiness? And what greater happi­ ness can there be than to enjoy the unshakable, un­ changeable, and most excellent truth? People cry out that they are happy when they pas­ sionately embrace the beautiful bodies of their spouses, and even of prostitutes; and shall we doubt that we are 4. Ps. 37:4

happy in embracing the truth? People cry out that they are happy when, with throats parched by the heat, they come upon a wholesome and abundant spring, or when they are starving and find an elaborate feast; and shall we deny that we are happy when our thirst is quenched and our hunger appeased by the truth itself? We often hear voices crying out that they are happy if they lie among roses or other flowers, or enjoy the in­ comparable scent of the finest perfumes; what is more fragrant, more delightful, than the gentle breath of truth? And shall we doubt that we are happy when it breathes upon us7 :'viany find their happiness in the music of voices and strings and flutes. When they are without it, they think they are miserable; and when they have it, they are in raptures. So when the silent eloquence of truth flows over us without the clamor of voices, shall we look for some other happiness, and not enjoy the one that is so secure and so near at hand? People take pleasure in the cheerfulness and bright­ ness of light- in the glitter of gold and silver, in the brilliance of gems, and in the radiance of colors and of that very light that belongs to our eyes, whether in earthly fires or in the stars or the sun or the moon. As long as no poverty or violence deprives them of this joy, they think that they are happy; they want to live forever to enjoy such a happiness. And shall we fear to find our happiness in the light of truth? :\"ol Rather, since the highest good is known and acquired in the truth, and that truth is wisdom, let us enjoy to the full the highest good, which we see and acquire in that truth. For those who enjoy the highest good are happy indeed. This truth shows forth all good things that are true, holding them out to be grasped by whoever has understanding and chooses one or many of them for his enjoyment. :\"ow think for a moment of those who choose what pleases them in the light of the sun and take joy in gazing upon it. If only their eyes were livelier and sound and exceptionally strong, they would like nothing better than to look directly upon the sun, which sheds its light even on the infe­ rior things that weaker eyes delight in. It is just the same with a strong and lively mind. Once it has con­ templated many true and unchangeable things with the sure eye of reason, it turns to the truth itself, by which all those true things are made known. It forgets

On Free Choice ofthe Will

47

those other things and cleaves to the truth, in which i t

tended in place and does not exist as a whole in any

enjoys them a l l a t once. For whatever is delightful i n

one place.

the other true things i s especially delightful in the

:\1oreover, any of these things can surely be taken

truth itself. This is our freedom, when we are subject to the

away from us against our will, and there are many ob­

truth; and the truth is God h imself, who frees us from

ample, even if someone could sing a beautiful song that never came to an end, and those who were keen

death, that is, from the state of sin. For that truth, speaking as a human being to those who believe in

stacles that keep us from enjoying them fully. For ex­

on it came eagerly to hear it, they would crowd to­

him, says, "If you abide in my word, you are truly my

gether and fight for the places nearest the singer. And

disciples. And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."; For the soul enjoys nothing with

even then, they could not hold on forever to what they heard; the sounds would reach them and then vanish.

freedom unless it enjoys it securely. 1 4. �ow no one is secure in enjoying goods that can

Even if I wanted to look at the sun and could do so

be lost against h is will. But no one can lose truth and wisdom against his will, for no one can be separated

with an unflinching eye, it would desert me at sunset or when it was hidden by a cloud; and many other

from the place where they are. What we called sepa­

things would interfere with my pleasure in seeing the sun, and so I would lose it against my will. Besides,

ration from truth and wisdom is really just a perverse

even supposing that I could always see a brilliant light

will that loves inferior things, and no one wills some­ thing unwillingly. We can all enjoy it equally and in

or hear a beautiful sound, what would that profit me?

common; there is ample room, and it lacks for noth­ ing. It welcomes all of its lovers without envy; it be­

I would have that in common with beasts. But to the will that steadfastly desires to enjoy it, the beauty of truth and wisdom is not obscured by the

longs to them all but is faithful to each. :\o one says to

crowds of eager listeners. It is not used up in the course

another, "Step back so that I too can get close; let go

of time; it does not move from place to place. :--l i ght

of it so that I too can embrace it." They all cleave to it;

does not cover it, and no shadow hides it. The bodily

they all touch it. :--; o one tears off a piece as his own food; you drink nothing from it that I cannot also

world who turn themselves toward it and love it. It is

drink. For what you gain from that communion does

eternally present with them all. It is not in any place,

senses do not perceive it. It is near to those in all the

not become your own private property; it remains in­

but it is present everywhere. It warns outwardly and

tact for me. When you breathe it in, I need not wait

teaches inwardly. It changes for the better all those

for you to give it back so that I can breathe it too. :\'o

who see it, and no one changes it for the worse. :--.; o

part of it ever becomes the private property of any one person; it is always wholly present to everyone.

And so it is clear beyond any doubt that this one truth,

one judges it, but apart from it no one judges rightly.

Therefore, the things that we touch or taste or

by which people become wise, and which makes them

smell are less similar to this truth than are the things

judges, not of it, but of other things, is better than our

that we hear and see. For every word that is heard is

minds.

heard simultaneously and in its entirety by everyone

1 5 . .\"ow you had conceded that if I proved the exis­

who hears it, and any form that is seen by the eyes is

tence of something higher than our minds, you would

seen equally by every eye that sees it. But these things

admit that it was God, as long as there was nothing

bear only a very distant resemblance to the truth. For

h igher still. I accepted this concession, and said that it

no sound exists all at once; every sound is produced

would be enough if I proved that there is something

in time and is distended in time, and one part of it

higher than our minds. For if there is something more

is heard after another. And every visible form is ex-

excellent than the truth, then that is God; if not, the truth itself is God. So in either case you cannot deny that God exists, and that was the very question that

5. John 8:3 1 -32.

we had agreed to discuss. Perhaps it occurs to you that,

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Augustine, 3 54-430

according to the teaching of Christ that we have ac­ cepted in faith, Wisdom has a Father.6 But remember another thing that we have accepted in faith: the Wis­ dom that is begotten of the eternal Father is equal to him. That is not a matter for dispute right now; we must hold it with unshaken faith. For there is indeed a God, and he exists truly and in the highest degree. No longer is this a truth that we merely hold with unhesitating faith; we have achieved an unerring, although ex­ tremely superficial, form of knowledge. This is enough to enable us to explain the other things that relate to our question, unless you have some objection to make. Evomus. I am so overwhelmed with joy that I cannot express it in words. I accept what you say; in­ deed, I cry out that it is most certain. But I cry out in­ wardly, hoping to be heard by the truth itself and to cleave to it. For I recognize that it is not merely one good among others; it is the highest good, the good that makes us happy. AlJGUSTI'F.. You do well to feel such joy - I too am rejoicing greatly. But I ask you, are we already happy and wise? Or are we merely on our way? Evom us. I think we are merely on our way. AucusTI, E . Then how do you understand these certain truths that make you cry out for joy? And how do you know that they belong to wisdom? Can a fool know wisdom? Evomus. :\ot as long as he remains a fool. Auct:STI , E . So either you are wise, or you do not yet know wisdom. Evomus. I'm not yet wise, but I wouldn't say that I am a fool either, since I do know wisdom. For I can't deny that the things I know are certain or that they be­ long to wisdom. At:GlSII,E. But Evodius, wouldn't you agree that someone who is not just is unjust, and someone who is not prudent is imprudent, and someone who is not temperate is intemperate? Or is there some room for doubt on these matters? Evomt:s. I agree that when someone is not just he is unjust; and I would say the same thing about pru­ dence and temperance. 6. Augustine is alluding to the common practice of re­ ferring to God the Son as "Wisdom." Cf. I Cor. I :24: "Christ the Power of God and the Wisdom of God."

AucuSTI, E .

So when someone is not wise, isn't

he a fool?7 Evomus. Yes, I agree with that too. \Vhen some­ one is not wise he is a fool. AuccsT"E. Well then, which are you? Evomus. Call me whichever you like. I wouldn't dream of saying that I am wise, so given what I have just agreed to, I see that I must admit to being a fool. AucusTI'E. Then a fool knows wisdom. For as we said before, you could not be certain that you willed to be wise, and that you ought to do so, unless a notion of wisdom was present in your mind. The same is true of the things that you said in response to each of my questions, things that belong to wisdom itself and that you rejoiced to understand. Evomus. Exactly. 1 6. AucusTI,E. \Vhat then are we doing when we diligently strive to be wise? Do we not seek, with as much energy as we can command, to gather our whole soul somehow to that which we attain by the mind, to station ourselves and become firmly entrenched there, so that we may no longer rejoice in our own private goods, which are bound up with ephemeral things, but instead cast aside all attachments to times and places and apprehend that which is always one and the same? For just as the soul is the whole l ife of the body, so God is the happy life of the soul. \Vhile we are striving thus - as long as we do so wholeheartedly­ we are on our way. We have been allowed to rejoice in these true and certain goods, even though for now they are like lightning flashes on this dark road. Isn't it written of Wisdom that she does this for her lovers when they come to her and seek her? For it is said, "She graciously reveals herself to them along the way, and in all of providence she runs to meet them."5 \\'herever you turn, she speaks to you in the traces that she leaves in her works. \Vhen you sink back down into external things, she uses the forms of those very things to call you back inside, so that you can see that whatever pleases you in material objects and entices

7. In Latin, the word for 'wise' (sapiens) is related to the word for 'fool' (insipiens) just as 'prudent' is to 'impru­ dent,' 'temperate' to 'intemperate,' and 'just' to 'unjust.' 8. Ws 6: 1 6.

On Free Choice of the Will

you through the bodily senses has number. Thus you will ask where that number comes from; returning within yourself, you will understand that you could neither approve nor disapprove of anything you per­ ceive through the bodily senses unless you had within yourself certain laws of beauty to which you refer every beautiful thing that you see outside yourself. Consider the heavens and the earth and the sea and everything in them that shines from on high or crawls here below, everything that flies or swims. They have forms because they have numbers; take away their form and number and they will be nothing. So they derive their being from the same source as number, for they have being only insofar as they have number. Craftsmen who shape all kinds of physical forms use the numbers that they have in their craft to fash­ ion their works. They put their hands and their tools to work until the object, which is being fashioned ex­ ternally in accordance with the light of the mind within, is made as perfect as possible. The senses relay the object to the inner judge, which beholds the num­ bers above it, and it is pleased. :\ext, ask what moves the craftsman's hands; it is number, for they too are moved in accordance with number. :\ow take away the work from his hands and the design from his mind, and imagine that he is mov­ ing his body for the sake of pleasure -you will call that "dancing." Ask what it is about dancing that gives pleasure: number will reply, "It is I." .'-:ow consider the beauty of a material object at rest; its numbers remain in place. Consider the beauty of a material object in motion: its numbers vary through time. Enter into the craft from which these things proceed, and look in it for time and place: it ex­ ists at no time and in no place, for number dwells in it; its realm is not confined to space, nor is its age mea­ sured in days. When those who want to become crafts.. men set themselves to learn the craft, they move their bodies in time and space, but their minds only in time; that is, they become more skilled with the passage of time. :\ow pass beyond the mind of the craftsman to see eternal number. Wisdom itself will shine upon you from its inner throne and from the secret dwelling­ place of truth. And if its brilliance overwhelms your weak sight, turn the eye of your mind back to the road

49

on which wisdom revealed itself to you graciously. But remember that you have merely put off a vision that you will seek again when you are stronger and healthier. 0 wisdom, the sweetest light of a purified mind! Woe to those who abandon you as their guide and ram­ ble about where you have left your traces, who love the things in which you speak to us instead of loving you, and forget what you are telling us. For you do not cease to tell us what and how great you are, and you speak to us in the beauty of every created thing. Even a crafts.. man somehow speaks in the very beauty of his work to the one who sees it, bidding him not to devote all his attention to the appearance of the material object that has been produced, but to look beyond it and recall with affection the one who produced it. But those who love what you make instead of loving you are like people who hear someone speaking wisely and elo­ quently and listen keenly to the charm of his voice and the construction of his words, while ignoring the most important thing: the meaning that his words signified. Woe to those who turn away from your light and gladly embrace a darkness of their own. They turn their backs on you and are bewitched by the works of the flesh, which are like their own shadows; and yet even then, the things that delight them have some­ thing of the radiance of your light. But when someone loves a shadow, the eye of the soul grows weaker and more inadequate to look upon you. So he wanders in darkness more and more, and gladly pursues whatever comes easiest to him in his weakened state. Soon he is unable to see what exists in the highest degree. He thinks it is evil when someone cheats him when he is off his guard, or defrauds him when he is in want, or takes him captive and tortures him. But he deservedly suffers these things because he has turned away from wisdom, and what is just cannot be evil. Whatever changeable thing you may look at, you could not grasp it at all, either by the sense of the body or by the contemplation of the mind, unless it had some form composed of numbers, without which it would sink into nothing. Therefore, do not doubt that there is an eternal and unchangeable form that sees to it that these changeable things do not perish, but pass through time in measured motions and a dis­ tinct variety of forms, like the verses of a song. This eternal form has no bounds; although it is diffused

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eveiJwhere, it is not extended in place, and it does not change in time. But through it all changeable things can be formed, and thus they complete and carry out the numbers of times and places in the way appropri­ ate to things of their class. 1 7. For every changeable thing is necessarily also formable. (Since we call something that can be changed "changeable," I shall call whatever can be formed "formable.") But nothing can form itself, since a thing can't give what it doesn't have. So if something is to have a form, it must be formed by something else. If a thing already has some form, it has no need to receive what it already has; but if it lacks that form, it cannot receive from itself what it does not have. Therefore, as we said, nothing can form itself. And what more is there for us to say about the changeableness of both body and soul? Enough has already been said. And so it follows that both body and soul are formed by an un­ changeable form that abides for ever. To this form it has been said, "You will change them, and they shall be changed; but you are always the same, and your years will not fail."9 By "years with­ out fail" the prophet means "eternity." It is also said of this form that "abiding in himself he makes all things new."1° From this we understand that everything is governed by his providence. For if everything that ex­ ists would be nothing without form, then that un­ changeable form - through which all changeable things subsist, so that they complete and carry out the numbers of their forms - is itself the providence that governs them. For they would not exist if it did not ex­ ist. Therefore, whoever has contemplated the whole creation and considers it carefully, if he follows the way that leads to wisdom, will indeed see that wisdom reveals itself graciously to him along the way and that in all of providence it runs to meet him. And as the joy of his burning desire to follow that way grows stronger, the very wisdom that he so ardently longs to achieve will make his way more beautiful. :\ow if you can manage to find some sort of crea­ ture beyond what has existence but not life, and what has existence and life but not understanding, and what 9. Ps. l 02:2fr27. 1 0. Ws 7:27.

has existence, life, and understanding, then you may dare to say that there is some good thing that is not from God. For these three classes may be designated by two words, 'matter' and 'life,' since both that which has life but not understanding, such as the lower ani­ mals, and that which has understanding, l ike human beings, can quite properly be called 'life.' But these two things, considered as creatures- for the word 'life' is also applied to the Creator himself, and his life is life in the highest degree- these two creatures, matter and life, are formable, as our previous statements showed. And since if they lost their form altogether they would fall into nothingness, it is quite clear that they subsist from that form that is always the same. Therefore, there can be no good thing, however great or small, that is not from God. For what created things could be greater than a life that understands or less than matter? However much they may lack form, and however great may be their propensity not to exist, nonetheless some form remains in them so that they do exist in some way. And whatever form remains in a deficient thing comes from the form that knows no de­ ficiency and does not allow the motions of growing or decaying things to transgress the laws of their own numbers. Therefore, whatever is found to be praise­ worthy in nature, whether it is judged worthy of small praise or great, should be referred to the ineffable and most excellent praise of their maker. Or do you have some objection to make? 1 8. Evo m us . I confess that I am quite convinced that this is the way to prove that God exists - as well as it can be proven in this life among people like us. And I am also convinced that all good things come from God, since everything that exists-whether that which has understanding, life, and existence, or that which has only life and existence, or that which has existence alone- is from God. :\ow let's take a look at the third question and see whether it can be resolved: should free will be included among those good things? Once that has been shown, I will concede without hesitation that God gave it to us, and that he was right to do so. AucusTI:-.;E. You have done a good job of re­ membering what we set out to do, and you have most astutely realized that the second question has now been answered. But you ought to have seen that the third question too has already been answered. You had

On

Free Choice ofthe Will

51

said that it seemed that God should not have given us free choice of the will, because whoever sins does so by free choice. I said in reply that no one can act rightly except by that same free choice of the will, and I affirmed that God gave us free choice in order to en­ able us to act rightly. You replied that free will should have been given to us in the same way that justice is given; no one can use justice wrongly. That reply of yours drove us into a roundabout path of discussion; along the way we showed that there is nothing good, however great or small, that is not from God. But that fact could not be shown clearly enough until we had first challenged the irreligious stupidity of the fool who "said in his heart, 'There is no God.' " 1 1 by attempting to find some evident truth to the contrary, going as far as our reason can take us in such an important matter, with God helping us along this precarious path. But these two facts - I mean that God exists and that every good thing is from him -which of course we believed quite confidently even before this discussion, have now been so thoroughly considered that this third fact seems altogether obvious: free will should indeed be counted as a good thing. For earlier in our discussion it had become clear, and we had agreed, that the nature of the body is at a lower level than the nature of the soul, and so the soul is a greater good than the body. But even when we find good things in the body that we can use wrongly, we do not say that they ought not to have been given to the body, for we admit that they are in fact good. So why should it be surprising that there are also good things in the soul that we can use wrongly, but which, since they are in fact good, can only have been given by him from whom all good things come? Consider what a great good a body is missing if it has no hands. And yet people use their hands wrongly in committing violent or shameful acts. If you see someone who has no feet, you admit that his physical well-being is impaired by the absence of so great a good, and yet you would not deny that someone who uses his feet to harm someone else or to disgrace him­ self is using them wrongly. By our eyes we see light and we distinguish the forms of material objects. They are

the most beautiful thing in our bodies, so they were put into the place of greatest dignity; and we use them to preserve our safety and to secure many other good things in life . .:\onetheless, many people use their eyes to do many evil things and press them into the service of inordinate desire; and yet you realize what a great good is missing in a face that has no eyes. But when they are present, who gave them, if not God, the gen­ erous giver of all good things? So just as you approve of these good things in the body and praise the one who gave them, disregarding those who use them wrongly, you should admit that free will, without which no one can live rightly, is a good and divine gift. You should condemn those who misuse this good rather than saying that he who gave it should not have given it. Evomus. But first I would like for you to prove that free will is a good thing, and then I will concede that God gave it to us, since I admit that all good things come from God. Auct:STI'\E. But didn't I just go to a great deal of trouble to prove that in our earlier discussion, when you admitted that every species and form of every ma­ terial object subsists from the highest form of all things, that is, from truth, and when you conceded that they are good? 'The truth itself tells us in the gospel that the very hairs of our head are numbered. 1 2 Have you forgotten what we said about the supremacy of number, and its power reaching from end to end? 'Nhat perversity, then, to number the hairs of our head among the good things, though of course among the least and most trivial goods, and to attribute them to God, the Creator of all good things-for both the greatest and the least goods come from him from whom all good things come-and yet to have doubts about free will, when even those who lead the worst lives admit that no one can live rightly without it! Tell me now, which is better: something without which we can live rightly, or something without which we can­ not live rightly' Evonn:s. Please, stop; I am ashamed of my blind­ ness. 'Nho could doubt that something without which no one lives rightly is far superior?

1 1 . Pss. 1 4: 1 ;

1 2. Cf. \1att. l 0:30.

; 3 :1.

52

Augustine,

3 54-43 0

At:GUSTI:-.;E. Would you deny that a one-eyed man

can live rightly? Evomus. That would be crazy.

eluded among the things that we know by reason. Or have you forgotten that when we were asking what we know by reason, you admitted that we know reason it­

AucusTI:-.;E. But you admit that an eye is some­

self by means of reason? So don't be surprised that,

thing good in the body, even though losing it does not

even though we use other things by free will, we also

interfere with l iving rightly. So don't you think that

use free will itself by means of free will, so that the will

free will is a good, since no one can live rightly with­

that uses other things also uses itself, just as the reason

out it? Look at justice, which no one uses wrongly. Jus­

that knows other things also knows itself. Similarly,

tice, and indeed all the virtues of the soul, are counted

memory not only grasps everything else that we re­

among the highest goods that are in human beings, be­

member, but also somehow retains itself in us, since we do not forget that we have a memory. It remembers

cause they constitute an upright and worthy life. For no one uses prudence or fortitude or temperance

not only other things but also itself; or rather, through

wrongly; right reason, without which they would not

memory we remember not only other things, but also

even be virtues, prevails in all of them, just as it does

memory itself

in justice, which you mentioned. And no one can use right reason wrongly.

1 9.

Therefore, these virtues are great goods. But you

Therefore, when the will, which is an intermediate good, cleaves to the unchangeable good that is com­ mon, not private - namely, the truth, of which we

must remember that even the lowest goods can exist

have said much, but nothing adequate - then one has

only from him from whom all good things come, that is, from God. For that was the conclusion of our pre­

a happy life. And the happy l ife, that is, the disposition of a soul that cleaves to the unchangeable good, is the

vious discussion, which you so gladly assented to many

proper and principal good for a human being. It con­

times. Thus, the virtues, by which one l ives rightly, are

tains all the virtues, which no one can use wrongly.

great goods; the beauty of various material objects,

:\ow the virtues, although they are great and indeed

without which one can live rightly, are the lowest

the foremost things in human beings, are not suffi­

goods; and the powers of the soul, without which one

ciently common, since they belong exclusively to the

cannot l ive rightly, are intermediate goods. '\:o one

individual human being who possesses them. But truth and wisdom are common to all, and all who are

uses the virtues wrongly, but the other goods, both the lowest and the intermediate, can be used either rightly

wise and happy become so by cleaving to truth and

or wrongly. The virtues cannot be used wrongly pre­

wisdom. :\o one becomes happy by someone else's

cisely because it is their function to make the right use of things that can also be used wrongly, and no one

happiness; even if you pattern yourself after someone

uses something wrongly by using it rightly. So the

happiness from the same source as the other person,

abundant generosity of the goodness of God has be­ stowed not only the great goods, but also the lowest

to you both. :\o one becomes prudent by someone

and intermediate goods. His goodness deserves more

else's prudence, or resolute by someone else's forti­

praise for the great goods than for the intermediate goods, and more for the intermediate goods than for

tude, or temperate by someone else's temperance, or

the lowest goods; but it deserves more praise for creat­

else in order to become happy, your desire is to attain that is, from the unchangeable truth that is common

just by someone else's justice. Instead, you regulate your soul by those unchangeable rules and lights of

ing all of them than it would deserve for creating only

the virtues that dwell incorruptibly i n the common

some of them.

truth and wisdom, just as the one whose virtue you set out to imitate regulated his soul and fixed it upon

Evomus. I agree. But there is one thing that con­

cerns me. We see that it is free will that uses other

those rules.

things either rightly or wrongly. So how can free will itself be included among the things that we use?

and unchangeable good, it attains the great and fore­

AucusTI :-.;E. In the same way that we know by rea­

most goods for human beings, even though the will it­

son everything that we know, and yet reason itself is in-

self is only an intermediate good. But when the will

Therefore, when the will cleaves to the common

On Free Choice of the Will turns away from the unchangeable and common good toward its own private good, or toward external or in­ ferior things, it sins. It turns toward its own private good when it wants to be under its own control; it turns toward external things when it is keen on things that belong to others or have nothing to do with itself; it turns toward inferior things when it takes delight in physical pleasure. In this way one becomes proud, meddlesome, and lustful; one is caught up into a life that, by comparison with the higher life, is death. But even that life is governed by divine providence, which places all things in their proper order and gives every­ one what he deserves. Hence, the goods that are pursued by sinners are in no way evil things, and neither is free will itself, which we found is to be counted among the intermediate goods. What is evil is the turning of the will away from the unchangeable good and toward changeable goods. And since this turning is not coerced, but voluntary, it is justly and deservedly punished with misery. 20. But perhaps you are going to ask what is the source of this movement by which the will turns away from the unchangeable good toward a changeable good. This movement is certainly evil, even though free will itself is to be counted among good things, since no one can live rightly without it. For if that movement, that turning away from the Lord God, is undoubtedly sin, surely we cannot say that God is the cause of sin. So that movement is not from God. But then where does it come from? Ifl told you that I don't know, you might be disappointed; but that would be the truth . For one cannot know that which is nothing. You must simply hold with unshaken faith that every good thing that you perceive or understand or in any way know is from God. For any nature you come across is from God. So if you see anything at all that has measure, number, and order, do not hesitate to at­ tribute it to God as craftsman. If you take away all mea­ sure, number, and order, there is absolutely nothing left. Even if the rudiments of a form remain, in which you find neither measure nor number nor order­ since wherever those things are there is a complete form -you must take that away too, for it seems to be like the material on which the craftsman works. For if the completion of form is a good, then the rudiments of a form are themselves not without goodness. So if

53

you take away evel)thing that i s good, you will have absolutely nothing left. But every good thing comes from God, so there is no nature that does not come from God. On the other hand, every defect comes from nothing, and that movement of turning away, which we admit is sin, is a defective movement. So you see where that movement comes from; you may be sure that it does not come from God. But since that movement is voluntary, it has been placed under our control. If you fear it, do not will it; and if you do not will it, it will not exist. What greater security could there be than to have a life in which nothing can happen to you that you do not will? But since we cannot pick ourselves up voluntarily as we fell voluntarily, let us hold with confident faith the right hand of God - that is, our Lord Jesus Christ­ which has been held out to us from on high. Let us await him with resolute hope and desire him with ar­ dent charity. But if you think that we need to discuss the origin of sin more carefully, we must postpone that for another discussion. Evomus. I will bow to your will and postpone this question, for I don't think that we have investigated it thoroughly enough yet.

Book 3 I . Evomcs. It has been demonstrated to my satisfac­ tion that free will is to be numbered among good things, and indeed not among the least of them, and therefore that it was given to us by God, who acted rightly in giving it. So now, if you think that this is a good time, I would like you to explain the source of the movement by which the will turns away from the common and unchangeable good toward its own good, or the good of others, or lower goods, all of which are changeable. AucUSTI�E. Why do we need to know that? Evoorus. Because if the will was given to us in such a way that it had this movement naturally, then it turned to changeable goods by necessity, and there is no blame involved when nature and necessity de­ termine an action. Aucusn�E. Does this movement please you or displease you?

54

Augustine,

3 54-430

It displeases me. So you find fault with it. Evomus. Of course. AucusTI"-"E. Then you find fault with a blameless movement of the soul. Evomus. :--;o , it's just that I don't know whether there is any blame involved when the soul deserts the unchangeable good and turns toward changeable goods. AucusTI"-"E. Then you find fault with what you don't know. Evomus. Don't quibble over words. In saying "I don't know whether there is any blame involved," I meant it to be understood that there undoubtedly is blame involved. The "I don't know" implied that it was ridiculous to have doubts about such an obvious fact. AucusTI"-"E. Then pay close attention to this most certain truth, which has caused you to forget so quickly what you just said. Ifthat movement existed by nature or necessity, it could in no way be blamewor­ thy. But you are so firmly convinced that this move­ ment is indeed blameworthy that you think it would be ridiculous to entertain doubts about something so certain. Why then did you affirm, or at least tentatively assert, something that now seems to you clearly false? For this is what you said: "If the will was given to us in such a way that it had this movement naturally, then it turned to changeable goods by necessity, and there is no blame involved when nature and necessity de­ termine an action." Since you are sure that this move­ ment was blameworthy, you should have been quite sure that the will was not given to us in such a way. Evom us. I said that this movement was blame­ worthy and that therefore it displeases me. And I am surely right to find fault with it. But I deny that a soul ought to be blamed when this movement pulls it away from the unchangeable good toward changeable goods, if this movement is so much a part of its nature that it is moved by necessity. AucusTI"-"E. You admit that this movement cer­ tainly deserves blame; but whose movement is it? Evomus. I see that the movement is in the soul, but I don't know whose it is. AuGUST!" E . Surely you don't deny that the soul is moved by this movement. Evomus.

AccusTI"-"E.

:\o. Do you deny that a movement by which a stone is moved is a movement of the stone? I'm not talking about a movement that is caused by us or some other force, as when it is thrown into the air, but the movement that occurs when it falls to the earth by its own weight. Evomus. I don't deny that this movement, by which the stone seeks the lowest place, is a movement of the stone. But it is a natural movement. If that's the sort of movement the soul has, then the soul's move­ ment is also natural. And if it is moved naturally, it cannot justly be blamed; even if it is moved toward something evil, it is compelled by its own nature. But since we don't doubt that this movement is blame­ worthy, we must absolutely deny that it is natural, and so it is not similar to the natural movement of a stone. AucusTI"-"E. Did we accomplish anything in our first two discussions? Evomus. Of course we did. Aucusn-.;E. I'm sure you recall that in Book One we agreed that nothing can make the mind a slave to inordinate desire except its own will. For the will can­ not be forced into such iniquity by anything superior or equal to it, since that would be unjust; or by any­ thing inferior to it, since that is impossible. Only one possibility remains: the movement by which the will turns from enjoying the Creator to enjoying his crea­ tures belongs to the will itself. So if that movement de­ serves blame (and you said it was ridiculous to entertain doubts on that score), then it is not natural, but voluntary. This movement of the will is similar to the down­ ward movement of a stone in that it belongs to the will just as that downward movement belongs to the stone. But the two movements are dissimilar in this respect: the stone has no power to check its downward move­ ment, but the soul is not moved to abandon higher things and love inferior things unless it wills to do so. And so the movement of the stone is natural, but the movement of the soul is voluntary. If someone were to say that a stone is sinning because its weight carries it downward, I would not merely say that he was more senseless than the stone itself; I would consider him completely insane. But we accuse a soul of sin when we are convinced that it has abandoned higher things Evomus.

AtJCUSTI"-"E.

On Free Choice of the Will and chosen to enjoy inferior things. :\'ow we admit that this movement belongs to the will alone, and that it is voluntary and therefore blameworthy; and the only useful teaching on this topic is that which condemns and checks this movement and thus serves to rescue our wills from their fall into temporal goods and tum them toward the enjoyment of the eternal good. There­ fore, what need is there to ask about the source of the movement by which the will turns away from the un­ changeable good toward changeable good? EvoDIGS. I see that what you are saying is true, and in a way I understand it. There is nothing I feel so firmly and so intimately as that I have a will by which I am moved to enjoy something. If the will by which I choose or refuse things is not mine, then I don't know what I can call mine. So if I use my will to do some­ thing evil, whom can I hold responsible but myself? For a good God made me, and I can do nothing good except through my will; therefore, it is quite clear that the will was given to me by a good God so that I might do good. If the movement of the will by which it turns this way or that were not voluntary and under its own control, a person would not deserve praise for turning to higher things or blame for hnning to lower things, as if swinging on the hinge of the will. Furthermore, there would be no point in admonishing people to for­ get about lower things and strive for what is eternal, so that they might refuse to live badly but instead will to live rightly. And anyone who does not think that we ought to admonish people in this way deserves to be banished from the human race. 2. Since these things are true, I very much wonder how God can have foreknowledge of everything in the future, and yet we do not sin by necessity. It would be an irreligious and completely insane attack on God's foreknowledge to say that something could happen otherwise than as God foreknew. So suppose that God foreknew that the first human being was going to sin. Anyone who admits, as I do, that God foreknows every­ thing in the future will have to grant me that. .:\ow I won't say that God would not have made him -for God made him good, and no sin of his can harm God, who not only made him good but showed His own goodness by creating him, as He also shows His justice by punishing him and His mercy by redeeming him­ but I will say this: since God foreknew that he was

55

going to sin, his sin necessarily had to happen. How, then, is the will free when such inescapable necessity is found in it? AucusTI"E. You have knocked powerfully on the door of God's mercy; may it be present and open the door to those who knock. Nevertheless, I think the only reason that most people are tormented by this question is that they do not ask it piously; they are more eager to excuse than to confess their sins. Some people gladly believe that there is no divine provi­ dence in charge of human affairs. They put their bod­ ies and their souls at the mercy of chance and give themselves up to be beaten and mangled by inordi­ nate desires. They disbelieve divine judgments and evade human judgments, thinking that fortune will defend them from those who accuse them. They de­ pict this "fortune" as blind, implying either that they are better than fortune, by which they think they are ruled, or that they themselves suffer from the same blindness. It is perfectly reasonable to admit that such people do everything by chance, since in whatever they do, they fall. 13 But we said enough in Book Two to combat this opinion, which is full of the most fool­ ish and insane error. Others, however, are not impertinent enough to deny that the providence of God rules over human life; but they prefer the wicked error of believing that it is weak, or unjust, or evil, rather than confessing their sins with humble supplication. If only they would let themselves be convinced that, when they think of what is best and most just and most powerful, the goodness and justice and power of God are far greater and far higher than anything they can conceive; if only they would consider themselves and understand that they would owe thanks to God even if he had willed to make them lower than they are. Then the very bone and marrow of their conscience would cry out, "I said, 0 Lord, have mercy upon me; heal my soul, for I have sinned against you.' "14 Thus they would be led in the secure paths of divine mercy along the road to wis­ dom, not becoming conceited when they made new '

1 3 . The Latin word for 'chance' ('casus') is derived from the verb 'to fall' ('cado'). 1 4. Ps. 4 1 :4.

56

Aug ustine, 3 54-430

discoveries or disheartened when they failed to do so. Their new knowledge would simply prepare them to see more, and their ignorance would make them more patient in seeking the truth. Of course I'm sure that you already believe this. But you will see how easily I can answer your difficult question once I have an­ swered a few preliminary questions. 3. Surely this is the problem that is disturbing and puz­ zling you. How is it that these two propositions are not contradictory and inconsistent: ( 1 ) God has fore­ knowledge of everything in the future; and (2) we sin by the will, not by necessity? For, you say, if God fore­ knows that someone is going to sin, then it is necessary that he sin. But if it is necessary, the will has no choice about whether to sin; there is an inescapable and fixed necessity. And so you fear that this argument forces us into one of two positions: either we draw the heretical conclusion that God does not foreknow everything in the future; or, if we cannot accept this conclusion, we must admit that sin happens by necessity and not by will. Isn't that what is bothering you? Evo01us. That's it exactly. AucusTI'>;E. So you think that anything that God foreknows happens by necessity and not by will. Evo01us. Precisely. AucusTI�E . .:-.:ow pay close attention. Look inside yourself for a little while, and tell me, if you can, what sort of will you are going to have tomorrow: a will to do right or a will to sin? Evo01cs. I don't know. ALJGUSTI�E. Do you think that God doesn't know either? Evomcs . .:-.:ot at all - God certainly does know. Acct;sTI�E. Well then, if God knows what you are going to will tomorrow, and foresees the future wills of every human being, both those who exist now and those who will exist in the future, he surely fore­ sees how he is going to treat the just and the irreligious. EvoDius. Clearly, if I say that God foreknows all of my actions, I can much more confidently say that he foreknows his own actions and foresees with ab­ solute certainty what he is going to do. AucusTI�E. Then aren't you worried that some­ one might object that God himself will act out of ne­ cessity rather than by his will in everything that he is

going to do? After all, you said that whatever God fore­ knows happens by necessity, not by will. EvoOIUS. When I said that, I was thinking only of what happens in his creation and not of what happens within himself. For those things do not come into be­ ing; they are eternal. AucusTI�E. So God does nothing in his creation. Evo01us. He has already established, once for all, the ways in which the universe that he created is to be governed; he does not administer anything by a new act of will. AucuST!'>;E. Doesn't he make anyone happy? Evo01us. Of course he does. Aucusn:-;E. And he does this when that person is made happy. Evo01us. Right. AucuSTI:-;E. Then suppose, for example, that you are going to be happy a year from now. That means that a year from now God is going to make you happy. Evoorus. That's right too. AuGUSTI:-;E. And God knows today what he is go­ ing to do a year from now. EvoOIUS. He has always foreknown this, so I ad­ mit that he foreknows it now, if indeed it is really go­ ing to happen. AucusTI�E. Then surely you are not God's crea­ ture, or else your happiness does not take place in you. Evo01us. But I am God's creature, and my hap­ piness does take place in me. Accusn�E. Then the happiness that God gives you takes place by necessity and not by will. Evoorus. His will is my necessity. AucusTr:-;r:. And so you will be happy against your will. Evomus. If I had the power to be happy I would be happy right now. Even now I will to be happy, but I'm not, since it is God who makes me happy. I can­ not do it for myself. AucusTI:-;E . How clearly the truth speaks through you! You could not help thinking that the only thing that is within our power is that which we do when we will it. Therefore, nothing is so much within our power as the will itself, for it is near at hand the very moment that we will. So we can rightly say, "We grow old by necessity, not by will"; or "We become feeble by ne-

On

cessity, not by will"; or "We die by necessity, not by will," and other such things. But who would be crazy enough to say "We do not will by the will"? Therefore, although God foreknows what we are going to will in the future, it does not follow that we do not will by the will. When you said that you cannot make yourself happy, you said it as if I had denied it. Not at all; I am merely saying that when you do become happy, it will be in accordance with your will, not against your will. Simply because God foreknows your fu­ ture happiness - and nothing can happen except as God foreknows it, since otherwise it would not be foreknowledge - it does not follow that you will be happy against your will. That would be completely ab­ surd and far from the truth. So God's foreknowledge, which is certain even today of your future happiness, does not take away your will for happiness once you have begun to be happy; and in the same way, your blameworthy will (if indeed you are going to have such a will) does not cease to be a will simply because God foreknows that you are going to have it. Just notice how imperceptive someone would have to be to argue thus: "If God has foreknown my future will, it is necessary that I will what he has foreknown, since nothing can happen otherwise than as he has foreknown it. But if it is necessary, then one must con­ cede that I will it by necessity and not by will." What extraordinary foolishness! If God foreknew a future will that turned out not to be a will at all, things would indeed happen otherwise than as God foreknew them. And I will overlook this objector's equally monstrous statement that "it is necessary that I will," for by as­ suming necessity he tries to abolish will . For if his will­ ing is necessary, how does he will, since there is no will? Suppose he expressed it in another way and said that, since his willing is necessary, his will is not in his own power. This would run up against the same prob­ lem that you had when I asked whether you were go­ ing to be happy against your will. You replied that you would already be happy if you had the power; you said that you have the will but not the power. I answered that the truth had spoken through you. For we can deny that something is in our power only if it is not

Free Choice of the Will

57

present even when we will it; but ifwe will, and yet the will remains absent, then we are not really willing at all. �ow if it is impossible for us not to will when we are willing, then the will is present to those who will; and if something is present when we will it, then it is in our power. So our will would not be a will if it were not in our power. And since it is in our power, we are free with respect to it. But we are not free with respect to anything that we do not have in our power, and any­ thing that we have cannot be nothing. Thus, we believe both that God has foreknowledge of everything in the future and that nonetheless we will whatever we will. Since God foreknows our will, the very will that he foreknows will be what comes about. Therefore, it will be a will, since it is a will that he foreknows. And it could not be a will unless it were in our power. Therefore, he also foreknows this power. It follows, then, that his foreknowledge does not take away my power; in fact, it is all the more certain that I will have that power, since he whose foreknowledge never errs foreknows that I will have it. Evomus. I agree now that it is necessary that whatever God has foreknown will happen, and that he foreknows our sins in such a way that our wills remain free and are within our power. 4. AucusTJ'\E. Then what is troubling you? Have you perhaps forgotten the results of our first discus­ sion? Will you deny that nothing at all, whether supe­ rior, equal, or inferior, can coerce the will, and that we sin by our own wills? Evooi us. I certainly wouldn't dream of denying any of those things. But still, I must admit that I can't quite see how God's foreknowledge of our sins can be consistent with our free choice in sinning. For we must admit that God is just, and that he has foreknowledge. But I would like to know how it can be just to punish sins that happen necessarily, or how things that God foreknows do not happen necessarily, or how whatever happens necessarily in creation should not be attrib­ uted to the Creator. AucusTI'\E. Why do you think that our free choice is inconsistent with God's foreknowledge? Be­ cause it's foreknowledge, or because it's God's fore­ knowledge? Evom us. Because it's God's foreknowledge.

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AucusTI:-;E. If you knew that someone was going to sin, he wouldn't sin necessarily, would he? Evomus. Indeed he would. Unless I foreknew something with certainty, it wouldn't be foreknowl­ edge at all. AucusTI:-;E. Then it's not God's foreknowledge that makes his sin necessary, but any foreknowledge, since if something is not foreknown with certainty, it is not foreknown at all. Evomus. I agree. But where are you headed with this? AucusTI:-;E. Unless I am mistaken, you do not force someone to sin just because you foreknow that he is going to sin. �or does your foreknowledge force him to sin, even if he is undoubtedly going to sin ­ since otherwise you would not have genuine fore­ knowledge. So if your foreknowledge is consistent with his freedom in sinning, so that you foreknow what someone else is going to do by his own will, then God forces no one to sin, even though he foresees those who are going to sin by their own will. Why then can't our just God punish those things that his foreknowledge does not force to happen? Just as your memory does not force the past to have hap­ pened, God's foreknowledge does not force the future to happen. And just as you remember some things that you have done but did not do everything that you re­ member, God foreknows everything that he causes but does not cause everything that he foreknows. Of such things he is not the evil cause, but the just avenger. Therefore, you must understand that God justly punishes the sins that he foreknows but does not cause. If the fact that God foresees their sins means that he should not punish sinners, then he should also not reward those who act rightly, for he also foresees their righteous actions. Let us rather confess that noth­ ing in the future is hidden from God's foreknowledge, and that no sin is left unpunished by his justice, for sin is committed by the will, not coerced by God's fore­ knowledge. 5. As for your third question, about how the Creator can escape blame for whatever happens necessarily in his creation, it will not easily overcome that rule of piety that we ought to bear in mind, namely, that we owe thanks to our Creator. His most abundant goodness would be most justly praised even if he had created us

at a lower level of creation. For even though our souls are decayed with sin, they are better and more sublime than they would be if they were transformed into visi­ ble light. And you see that even souls that are addicted to the bodily senses give God great praise for the grandeur of light. Therefore, don't let the fact that sin­ ful souls are condemned lead you to say in your heart that it would be better if they did not exist. For they are condemned only in comparison with what they would have been if they had refused to sin. �onetheless, God their Creator deserves the most noble praise that hu­ man beings can offer him, not only because he places them in a just order when they sin, but also because he created them in such a way that even the filth of sin could in no way make them inferior to corporeal light, for which he is nonetheless praised. So you should not say that it would be better if sin­ ful souls had never existed. But I must also warn you not to say that they ought to have been created differ­ ently. Whatever might rightly occur to you as being better, you may be sure that God, as the Creator of all good things, has made that too. When you think that something better should have been made, it is not right reason, but grudging weakness, to will that noth­ ing lower had been made, as if you looked upon the heavens and wished that the earth had not been made. Such a wish is utterly unjust. If vou saw that the earth had been made but not the heavens, then you would have a legitimate complaint, for you could say that the earth ought to have been made like the heavens that you can imagine. But since you see that the pattern to which you wanted the earth to conform has indeed been made (but it is called 'the heavens' and not 'the earth'), I'm sure that you would not begrudge the fact that the inferior thing has also been made, and that the earth exists, since you are not deprived of the better thing. And there is so great a va­ riety of parts in the earth that we cannot conceive of any earthly form that God has not created. By inter­ mediate steps one passes gradually from the most fer­ tile and pleasant land to the briniest and most barren, so that you would not dream of disparaging any of them except in comparison with a better. Thus you as­ cend through every degree of praise, so that even when you come to the very best land, you would not want it to exist without the others. And how great a distance

On

there is between the whole earth and the heavens! For between the two is interposed the watery and airy na­ ture. From these four elements come a variety of forms and species too numerous for us to count, although God has numbered them all. Therefore, it is possible for something to exist in the universe that you do not conceive with your rea­ son, but it is not possible for something that you con­ ceive by right reason not to exist. For you cannot conceive anything better in creation that has slipped the mind of the Creator. Indeed, the human soul is naturally connected with the divine reasons on which it depends. When it says "It would be better to make this than that," if what it says is true, and it sees what it is saying, then it sees that truth in the reasons to which it is connected. If, therefore, it knows by right reason that God ought to have made something, let it believe that God has in fact done so, even if it does not see the thing among those that God has made. For example, suppose we could not see the heavens. Nonetheless, if right reason showed that some such thing ought to have been made, it would be right for us to believe that it was made, even if we did not see it with our own eyes. For if we see by thought that some­ thing ought to have been made, we see it only in those reasons by which all things were made. But no truth­ ful thinking can enable someone to see what is not in those reasons, for whatever is not there is not true. Many people go astray when they have seen better things with their mind because in searching for it with their eyes they look in the wrong places. They are like someone who understands perfect roundness and is angry because he does not find it in a nut, if that is the only round object that he sees. In the same way, some people see by the truest reason that a creature is better if it is so firmly dedicated to God that it will never sin, even though it has free will. Then, when they look upon the sins of human beings, they do not use their sorrow over sin to stop people from sinning; they be­ moan the fact that human beings were created in the first place. "He ought to have made us," they say, "so that we would always enjoy his unchangeable truth, so that we would never will to sin." Let them not moan and complain! God, who gave them the power to will, did not force them to sin; and there are angels who never have sinned and never will sin.

Free Choice ofthe Will

59

Therefore, if you take delight in a creature whose will is so perfectly steadfast that he does not sin, it is by right reason that you prefer this creature to one that sins. And just as you give it a higher rank in your think­ ing, the Creator gave it a higher rank in his ordering. So be sure that such a creature exists in the higher places and in the splendor of the heavens, since if the Creator manifested his goodness in creating some­ thing that he foresaw would sin, he certainly mani­ fested his goodness in creating something that he foreknew would not sin. That sublime creature has perpetual happiness in the perpetual enjoyment of its Creator, a happiness that it deserves because it perpetually wills to retain justice. :\ext, there is a proper place even for the sin­ ful nature that by its sins has lost happiness but not thrown away the power to recover happiness. This na­ ture is in turn higher than one that perpetually wills to sin. It occupies a sort of intermediate position between those that persist in willing justice and those that per­ sist in willing to sin. It receives its greatness from the lowliness of repentance. But God, in the bounty of his goodness, did not shrink from creating even that creature who he fore­ knew would not merely sin, but would persist in will­ ing to sin. For a runaway horse is better than a stone that stays in the right place only because it has no movement or perception of its own; and in the same way, a creature that sins by free will is more excellent than one that does not sin only because it has no free will. I would praise wine as a thing good of its kind, but condemn a person who got drunk on that wine. And yet I would prefer that person, condemned and drunk, to the wine that I praised, on which he got drunk. In the same way, the material creation is rightly praised on its own level, but those who turn away from the perception of the truth by immoderately using the material creation deserve condemnation. And yet even those perverse and drunken people who are ru­ ined by this greed are to be preferred to the material creation, praiseworthy though it is in its own order, not because of the merit of their sins, but because of the dignity of their nature. Therefore, any soul is better than any material ob­ ject. :\ow no sinful soul, however far it may fall, is ever changed into a material object; it never ceases to be a

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souL Therefore, no soul ceases to be better than a ma­ terial object. Consequently, the lowest soul is still bet­ ter than light, which is the foremost among material objects. It may be that the body in which a certain soul exists is inferior to some other body, but the soul itself can in no way be inferior to a body. Why, then, should we not praise God with un­ speakable praise, simply because when he made those souls who would persevere in the laws of justice, he made others who he foresaw would sin, even some who would persevere in sin? For even such souls are better than souls that cannot sin because they lack rea­ son and the free choice of the wilL And these souls are in turn better than the brilliance of any material ob­ ject, however splendid, which some people mistak­ enly worship instead of the �ost High God. In the order of material creation, from the heavenly choirs to the number of the hairs of our heads, the beauty of good things at every level is so perfectly harmonious that only the most ignorant could say, "What is this? Why is this?" - for all things were created in their proper order. How much more ignorant, then, to say this of a soul whose glory, however dimmed and tar­ nished it might become, far exceeds the dignity of any material object! Reason judges in one way, custom in another. Rea­ son judges by the light of truth, so that by right judg­ ment it subjects lesser things to greater. Custom is often swayed by agreeable habits, so that it esteems as greater what truth reveals as lower. Reason accords the heavenly bodies far greater honor than earthly bodies. And yet who among carnal human beings would not much rather have many stars gone from the heavens than one sapling missing from his field or one cow from his pasture? Children would rather see a man die (unless it is someone they love) than their pet bird, es­ pecially if the man frightens them and the bird is beau-

tiful and can sing; but adults utterly despise their judg­ ments, or at least wait patiently until they can be cor­ rected. In the same way, there are those who praise God for his lesser creatures, which are better suited to their carnal senses. But when it comes to his superior and better creatures, some of these people praise him less or not at all; some even try to find fault with them or change them; and some do not believe that God created them. But those who have advanced along the road to wisdom regard such people as ignorant judges of things. Until they can correct the ignorant, they learn to bear with them patiently; but if they cannot correct them, they utterly repudiate their judgments. 6. Since this is the case, it is quite wrong to think that the sins of the creature should be attributed to the Cre­ ator, even though it is necessary that whatever he fore­ knows will happen. So much so, that when you said you could find no way to avoid attributing to him everything in his creation that happens necessarily, I on the other hand could find no way-nor can any way be found, for I am convinced that there is no way-to attribute to him anything in his creation that happens necessarily by the will of sinners. Someone might say, "I would rather not exist at all than be unhappy." I would reply, "You're lying. You're unhappy now, and the only reason you don't want to die is to go on existing. You don't want to be unhappy, but you do want to exist. Give thanks, therefore, for what you are willingly, so that what you are against your will might be taken away; for you willingly exist, but you are unhappy against your wilL If you are un­ grateful for what you will to be, you are justly com­ pelled to be what you do not wilL So I praise the goodness of your Creator, for even though you are un­ grateful you have what you will; and I praise the jus­ tice of your Lawgiver, for because you are ungrateful you suffer \vhat you do not will."

3 . Reconsiderations Book

1,

Chapter 9

I . While we were still waiting in Rome, we decided to discuss the origin of evil. We carried on the discussion in such a way that reason would raise the things that we already believed on divine authority to the level of understanding, to the extent that we could do so with God's help. And since, after careful discussion, we agreed that the sole origin of evil is the free choice of the will, the three books that grew out of that discus­ sion were entitled On Free Choice. I finished Books Two and Three, as well as I could at the time, after I had been ordained a priest at Hippo Regius. 2. So many things were discussed in these books that quite a few issues arose that I could not elucidate, or that would have required an extended discussion. Whenever a question admitted of more than one so­ lution, and we could not determine which ofthese was closest to the truth, we postponed the question with the understanding that, whatever might tum out to be the truth, we could believe, or even prove, that God ought to be praised. We took up this discussion in order to refute those who deny that the origin of evil lies in the free choice of the will and therefore contend that we should blame evil on God, the Creator of all natures. In keeping with this perverse error, these men, the Manichees, wish to assert the existence of an un­ changeable principle of evil coetemal with God. Since this was the debate we had in mind, there was no discussion in these books of the grace of God, by which he so predestines his chosen people that he himself prepares the wills of those who are already us­ ing their free choice. Consequently, wherever the sub­ ject of grace arose, it was mentioned only in passing and not given the careful treatment that would have

From Augustine, On Free Choice of the Will, tr. Thomas Williams (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1 994) . Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

been appropriate if it had been the principal topic of discussion. For it is one thing to search for the origin of evil and quite another to ask how we can be restored to our original innocence or press on toward a greater good. 3. Therefore, these new Pelagian heretics-who claim that the choice of the will is so free that they leave no room for God's grace, which they claim is given in ac­ cordance with our merits-should not congratulate themselves as if I had been pleading their cause, sim­ ply because I said many things in support offree choice that were necessary to the aim of our discussion. Indeed, I said in Book One: "Evil deeds are pun­ ished by the justice of God." And I added, "They would not be punished justly if they were not per­ formed voluntarily." Again, in showing that a good will is so great a good that it is rightly preferred to all physical and external goods, I said, "Then I believe you realize that it is up to our will whether we enjoy or lack such a great and true good. For what is so much in the power of the will as the will itself?" And in another place I said, "Then why should we hesitate to affirm that, even if we have never been wise, it is by the will that we lead and deserve a praise­ worthy and happy life, or a contemptible and unhappy one?" And again in another place I said, "From this it fol­ lows that all who will to live upright and honorable lives, if they will this more than they will transitory things, attain such a great good so easily that they have it by the very act of willing to have it." And again elsewhere I said, "For the eternal law (to which it is time for us to return) has established with unshakable firmness that the will is rewarded with happiness or punished with unhappiness depending on its merit." And in another place I said, "We have determined that the choice to follow and embrace one or the other lies with the will." In Book Two I said: "For human beings as such are good things, since they can l ive rightly if they so will." 61

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And in another place I said " . . . no one can act rightly except by that same free choice." In Book Three I said, ":\'ow we admit that this movement [sin] belongs to the will alone, and that it is voluntary and therefore blameworthy; and the only useful teaching on this topic is that which condemns and checks this movement and thus serves to rescue our wills from their fall into temporal goods and turn them toward the enjoyment of the eternal good. 'Iberefore, what need is there to ask about the source of the movement by which the will turns away from the unchangeable good toward changeable good?" And in another place I said, "How clearly the truth speaks through you! You could not help thinking that the only thing that is within our power is that which we do when we will it. Therefore, nothing is so much within our power as the will itself, for it is near at hand the very moment that we will." Again, in another place I said, "For ifyou are praised for seeing what you ought to do, although you can see it only in God, who is the unchangeable Truth, how much more should God be praised! For it was God who decreed what you ought to will, who gave you the power to will it, and who did not permit your unwill­ ingness to go unpunished." And then I added, ";-...'ow if everyone owes what he has received, and human be­ ings were made in such a way that they necessarily sinned, then they ought to sin. Therefore, when they sin, they are doing what they ought to do. But if it is wicked to say such a thing, then no one is compelled to sin, whether by his own nature or by someone else's." And furthermore I said, "And besides, what could be the cause of the will before the will itself' Either it is the will itself, in which case the root of all evils is still the will, or else it is not the will, in which case there is no sin. So either the will is the first cause of sin, or no sin is the first cause of sin. And you cannot rightly assign responsibility for a sin to anyone but the sinner; therefore, you cannot rightly assign responsibility ex­ cept to someone who wills it." And a little further on I said, " For who sins by do­ ing what he cannot guard against? But there is sin, so it is possible to guard against it." Pelagius made use of this statement in some book of his; when I responded to his book I decided to call my own book On Nature and Grace.

4. In these and similar passages I did not mention the grace of God, which was not then under discussion. Consequently, the Pelagians think, or could think, that I held their view. Far from it. As I emphasized in these passages, it is indeed by the will that we sin or live rightly. But unless the will is liberated by grace from its bondage to sin and is helped to overcome its vices, mortals cannot lead pious and righteous lives. And unless the divine grace by which the will is freed preceded the act of the will, it would not be grace at all. It would be given in accordance with the will's merits, whereas grace is given freely. I have dealt sat­ isfactorily with these questions in other works, refuting these upstart heretics who are the enemies of grace. But even in On Free Choice ofthe Will, which was not aimed at the Pelagians (who did not yet exist) but at the \1anichees, I was not completely silent on the sulr ject of grace, which the Pelagians in their abominable impiety are trying to take away altogether. Indeed, I said in Book Two, "But you must re­ member that even the lowest goods can exist only from him from whom all good things come, that is, from God." And a little further on I said, "Thus, the virtues, by which one lives rightly, are great goods; the beauty of various material objects, without which one can live rightly, are the lowest goods; and the powers of the soul, without which one cannot live rightly, are inter­ mediate goods. :\o one uses the virtues wrongly, but the other goods, both the lowest and the intermediate, can be used either rightly or wrongly. The virtues can­ not be used wrongly precisely because it is their func­ tion to make the right use of things that can also be used wrongly, and no one uses something wrongly by using it rightly. So the abundant generosity of the goodness of God has bestowed not only the great goods, but also the lowest and intermediate goods. H is goodness deserves more praise for the great goods than for the intermediate goods, and more for the interme­ diate goods than for the lowest goods; but it deserves more praise for creating all of them than it would de­ serve for creating only some of them." And in another place I said, ''You must simply hold with unshaken faith that every good thing that you per­ ceive or understand or in any way know is from God." And again in another place I said, "But since we cannot pick ourselves up voluntarily as we fell volun-

Reconsiderations

tarily, let us hold with confident faith the right hand of God -that is, our Lord Jesus Christ-which has been held out to us from on high." 5. And in Book Three, in making the statement that, as I have already mentioned, Pelagius himself quoted from my works ("For who sins by doing what he can­ not guard against? But there is sin, so it is possible to guard against it."), I immediately went on to say, "Nonetheless, even some acts committed out of igno­ rance are condemned and judged to be worthy of cor­ rection, as we read in Scripture. Saint Paul says, 'I obtained your mercy, since I acted in ignorance.' The Psalmist says, 'Remember not the sins of my youth and of my ignorance.' Even things done by necessity are to be condemned, as when someone wants to act rightly but cannot. That is what the following passages mean . . . . To will the good is present to me, but I find no way to do it.' 'The flesh lusts against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh; for they war against each other, so that you do not do what you will.' All of these troubles have come upon human beings from the sen­ tence of death, for if they were the result of our nature and not of our penalty, they would not be sins. If we were made to act this way naturally, so that we could do no better, we would merely be acting as we ought. If human beings were good, they would be otherwise. But as it is, they are not good, and it is not in their power to be good, either because they do not see how they ought to be, or because they lack the power to be what they see they ought to be. Who could doubt that this is a penalty? But every just penalty is a penalty for sin, and so it is called 'punishment.' On the other hand, if this penalty 'since no one doubts that it is in fact a penalty) is unjust, it is imposed by the unjust domination of some human being. But since it would be foolish to doubt the omnipotence and justice of God, this penalty is just, and it is imposed because of sin. :7\o unjust man could secretly usurp God's do­ minion (as if God were unaware of what was happen­ ing) or wrest them away against his will (as if God were so weak that he could be overcome by fear or force) so as to torture them with an unjust penalty. Therefore, the only remaining possibility is that this just penalty is a consequence of the damnation of human beings." And again in another place I say, "But to accept falsehoods as truths, thus erring unwillingly; to strug-

63

gle against the pain of carnal bondage and not be able to refrain from acts of inordinate desire: these do not belong to the nature that human beings were created with; they are the penalty of a condemned prisoner. But when we speak of free will to act rightly, we mean the will with which human beings were created." 6. Thus, long before the Pelagian heresy had arisen, I argued just as if I were combatting the Pelagians. For when it is said that all good things - the great, the in­ termediate, and the lowest goods- come from God, free choice of the will is among the intermediate goods, because it can be used either rightly or wrongly, but we cannot live rightly without it. The right use of free choice is virtue, which is found among the great goods, which no one can use wrongly. And since, as I have said, all good things - the great, the interme­ diate, and the lowest goods- are from God, it fol­ lows that the right use of our free will, which is virtue and is included among the great goods, is also from God. Then I said that the grace of God frees us from the misery that was justly imposed upon sinners. For hu­ man beings cannot pick themselves up voluntarily­ that is, by their own free choice -as they fell voluntarily. To the misery imposed by this j ust con­ demnation belong ignorance and difficulty, which af­ flict all human beings from the very outset of their lives. And no one is freed from that evil except by the grace of God. The Pelagians deny that this misery de­ rives from a just condemnation, for they disbelieve in original sin. But as I argued in Book Three, even if ig­ norance and difficulty belonged to the nature with which human beings were originally created, God would still deserve praise and not blame. This discussion was directed against the M"anichees, who do not accept the Old Testament, where the story of the original sin is told. And they have the repre­ hensible impudence to claim that whatever they read on that subject in the letters of the apostles was in­ serted later by those who corrupted the text of Scrip­ ture, and was not written by the apostles at all. In arguing against the Pelagians, on the other hand, we must defend our views from the Old as well as the �ew Testament, since they claim to accept both. This book begins: "Please tell me: isn't God the cause of evil?"

4. On the Trinity Book

15

First of all, that knowledge around which our thought is truly formed when we say what we know, what kind and how much [of it] can arise in a man, however ex­ pert and learned [ he is]? For, apart from the things that come into the mind from the bodily senses, among which so many are otherwise than they seem that one who is overly impressed by their illusoriness [verisimil­ itudine] seems to himself to be healthy, although he is insane- hence the Academic philosophy has so prevailed that, doubting about all things, it would rave even more pitiably- apart from these things that come into the mind from the bodily senses, what remains of the things that we know, as we know that we are alive? On that point we are absolutely without fear that perhaps we are deceived by some illusion. For it is cer­ tain that even he who is deceived is alive. Neither is this included among those objects of sight that strike [us] from outside so that the eye is deceived about it, just as it is deceived when the oar seems broken in the water, and a tower [seems] to move to those sailing past, and six hundred other things that are otherwise than they seem. For this one is not perceived with the eye of the flesh. It is an intimate knowledge by which we know we are alive, where even the Academic cannot sav, "�aybe you are asleep and do not know it, and you s�e in your dreams." Certainly, who docs not know that the things seen by those who are dreaming are exactly like the things seen by those awake? But he who is cer­ tain about knowing he is alive does not say thereby "I know I am awake" but "I know that I am alive." There­ fore, whether he is sleeping or awake, he is alive. �ei­ ther can he be deceived by dreams in that knowledge, because both sleeping and seeing in dreams belong to the living.

Translated by Paul Vincent Spade. Reprinted by permis­ sion of the translator. 64

�or can the Academic say in opposition to this knowledge, "�aybe you are mad and do not know it." For the things that appear to the mad are also exactly like those that appear to the sane. But he who is mad is alive. :\or does he say against the Academics "I know I am not mad" but "I know I am alive." Therefore, he who says he knows he is alive is nei­ ther deceived nor lying. And so, let a thousand kinds of deceptive visions be set before one who says "I know I am alive." He will fear none of them as long as even he who is deceived is alive. But if only things like these pertain to human knowledge, they are pretty few- unless in each kind they are so multiplied that they are not only not few, but in fact are found to stretch to infinity. For he who says "I know I am alive" says he knows one thing. Then if he says "I know I know I am alive," there are two. But now the fact that he knows these two things is a third bit ofknowledge. [And] in this way he can add both a fourth and a fifth - and countless many, if he is up to it. But because one cannot exhaust [ comprehendere] an uncountably large number by adding units, or say [something] countless times, this very fact he com­ prehends, and says both that it is true and that it is so uncountable that he cannot exhaust the infinite num­ ber of its expression [ verbi eius] and say it. 1 I . This last sentence trades on the word 'comprehendere.' The basic meaning is '·to grasp completely," to "get your hand completely around" something. In an epistemolog­ ical sense, to "comprehend" something is to know it ex­ haustively. Augustine also uses the word here in another sense, where to "comprehend" a process is to "get com­ pletely around it," that is, to finish the process. So too, to "comprehend" a number is to "get completely around it," that is, to be able to count up to it and beyond. The point of the sentence then is that, although one can in princi­ ple reiterate "] know that p," "] know that I know that p," etc., to infinity, nevertheless one cannot actuallv utter an infinitely long sentence after that pattern, o� even actually count up to and beyond the number of reitera­ tions such an infinitely long sentence would have. Yet I

On the Trinity This can also be observed for a will that is certain. Who is there for whom it is not impudent to reply "Maybe you are deceived" when he says "I want to be happy"? And if he says "I know that I want this, and I know that I know this," he can now add to these two a third item, that he knows these two, and a fourth, that he knows he knows these two, and proceed in this way to an infinite number. Again, if someone says "I do not want to make a mistake," [then] whether he makes a mistake or does not make a mistake, will it not nevertheless be true that he does not want to make a mistake? Who is there for whom it would not be most impudent to say to such a one "\'laybe you are deceived"? For certainly, whenever he is deceived, nevertheless he is not de­ ceived about not wanting to be deceived. And if he says that he knows this, he adds as much as he wants to the number of things known, and observes that the num­ ber is infinite. For he who says "I do not want to be de­ ceived, and I know I do not want that, and I know I know that" can indicate this infinite number, although not by its full expression. Other things are found too that work against the Academics, who maintain that nothing is known by man. But we must put a stop to this, especially since we have not taken up that task in the present work. There are three books of ours,2 written right after our conversion. Surely none of the many arguments that

can "comprehend" (in the epistemological sense) that very fact and say that there is this truth that I cannot ever get to the end of saying. Z. That is, Against the Academics.

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are made up by [the Academics] against the percep­ tion of truth will influence anyone who is able and wants to read these [books], and understands them when he has read them. For while there are two kinds of things that are known, one [consisting] of those the mind perceives through bodily sense and the other of those [it per­ ceives] through itself, these philosophers have chat­ tered on a great deal against the senses of the body, but they have never been able to call into doubt the mind's most steadfast perceptions, [which] it gets through it­ self, of true things -for example, "I know I am alive," as I said. But far be it from us that we should doubt the things we have learned through the bodily senses. For through them we have learned about heaven and earth and the things in them that are known to us, in­ sofar as he who made both us and them wanted (them] to become known to us. Far be it from us too that we should deny that we know what we have learned through the testimony of others. Apart from them, we do not know there is an ocean; we do not know there are the lands and cities that famous reports describe for us; we do not know that the men and their deeds existed that we learn about by reading history; we do not know the things that are reported every day from whatever quarter and are confirmed by indications that are consistent and in agreement [with one an­ other]; finally, we do not know in what places or from what people we arose. For all these things we believe on the testimony of others. If it is quite absurd to say all that, [then] it must be confessed that not only the senses of our own bodies, but those of other people's bodies too, add to our knowledge.

5 . Confessions Book 2 4.9. Certainly, 0 Lord, your law punishes theft; and it is a law written upon human hearts, a law that not even iniquity itself erases. After all, what thief will tolerate another thief? Even a rich thief will not put up with someone who steals out of need. And yet I willed to steal, and I carried out the theft, driven by no needi­ ness except that I was bereft of justice-which I loathed -and crammed full of iniquity. For I stole something of which I already had plenty, and much better than what I stole. Nor did I want to enjoy the thing that I desired to steal; what I wanted to enjoy was the theft itself, the sin. There was a pear tree near our orchard, laden with fruit that was not enticing in either appearance or taste. One wretched night-it was our unhealthy cus­ tom to keep up our games in the streets well into the night, and we had done so then -a band of altogether worthless young men set out to shake that tree and run off with its fruit. We took away an enormous haul, not for our own food but to throw to the pigs. Perhaps we ate something, but even if we did, it was for the fun of doing what was not allowed that we took the pears. Be­ hold my heart, 0 God; behold my heart, on which you had mercy in the depths of that abyss. Behold, let my heart tell you now what it was seeking there: seeking in such a way that I would be wicked for no reason, so that there would be no cause for my wickedness but wickedness itself. It was foul, this wickedness, and yet I loved it. I loved perishing. I loved my own falling away: I did not love the thing into which I fell, but the fall itself. In my very soul I was vile, and I leapt down from your firmament into destruction, not striving for something disgraceful, but seeking disgrace. 5 . 1 0. Truly there is a loveliness in beautiful bodies, in gold and silver and all the rest; in fleshly touch there

Translated for this volume by Thomas Williams from the edition of James J. O'Donnell, Augustine: Confessions, vol. 1 . (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1 992). 66

is great power in harmony; and each ofthe other senses has a bodily quality accommodated to it. Honor in this age and the power to command and subdue have their splendor; from them arises the eagerness to exact vengeance. And yet in striving after all these things we must not depart from you, 0 Lord, or stray from your law. The life that we live here has an attractiveness all its own because of the due measure of its beauty and its fitting relation to all these things that are the lowest ofbeautiful objects. Human friendship, too, is sweet in its precious bond because it makes many souls one. On account of all these things, and others like them, we make room for sin: because of our ungoverned incli­ nation toward these things -for though they are goods, they are the lowest goods -we abandon the better and the highest goods; we abandon you, 0 Lord, and your truth and your law. For even those lowest things have their delights, but not like my God, who created all things; for the just delight in God, and he is the delight of those who are upright in heart. 5 . I I . When a question arises about the cause of some criminal act's being done, people do not typi­ cally accept any explanation until it appears that there was a desire to attain, or a fear of losing, one of those goods that we have called the lowest goods. These are beautiful and becoming, though they are abject and contemptible in comparison with superior and be­ atific goods. Someone has committed murder. Why did he do it? He loved his victim's wife or estate, or he wanted to steal enough to live on, or he was afraid of losing something to his victim, or he was burning to revenge himself on someone who had injured him. Surely no one has ever committed murder simply be­ cause he delighted in murder itself] Who would believe such a thing? Even for that savage and most cruel man of whom it was said that he was wicked and cruel for no reason, a cause is nonetheless stated: "lest through idleness," it says, "his hand or spirit should be­ come useless." And ask again: "Why did he do this?" It was so that once he seized the city through the prac­ tice of his crimes, he might obtain honors, powers, and riches, and he would be free from the law and "from

Confessions the burden of the poverty of his estate - and his own consciousness of the guilt of his crimes." So not even Catiline loved his crimes; he loved something else that was the cause of his committing those crimes. 6. 1 2 . What I did I - wretch that I was - love in you, my theft, my crime by night in my sixteenth year? You were not beautiful, for you were a theft. Or are you in­ deed anything at all, so that I might speak to you' Those pears that we stole were beautiful, for they were created by you, 0 most beautiful of all, Creator of all, good God, God my supreme good and my true good. Those pears were beautiful, but they were not what my wretched soul lusted after. After all, I had plenty ofbet­ ter pears; I picked those merely in order to steal. The pears that I had plucked I threw away. The only thing I tasted from them was iniquity; enjoying that was what made me happy. For even if something from those pears did enter my mouth, it was the crime that gave it savor. And now, 0 Lord my God, I am asking what delighted me in that theft, and behold! there is no beauty there. I do not merely mean such beauty as is found in equity and practical wisdom, or in the hu­ man mind and memory and the senses and the life of the body; not even as the stars are beautiful and adorn their proper places, as the earth and the sea are beau­ tiful, teeming with new lives that are born to take the place of things that are passing away- it lacked even the abortive and shadowy beauty of deceptive vices. 6. 1 3 . For pride mimics loftiness, when in fact you are the one God, \1ost High above all things. What does ambition seek but honors and glory, when in fact you are the one who is to be honored before all things and are glorious unto eternity? The cruelty of the pow­ erful is meant to inspire fear, but who is to be feared except the one God? And in what respect can his power be curtailed or lessened, when or where or how or by whom' The enticements of the lustful are meant to arouse love, but nothing is more enticing than your charity, and no love is more wholesome than the love of your Truth, which surpasses all things in beauty and splendor. Curiosity makes a show of zeal for knowl­ edge, when in fact it is you who supremely know all things. Even ignorance and stupidity are concealed under the name of simplicity and harmlessness. For nothing simpler than you can be found; and what is more harmless than you, since it is their own works

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that are the enemies of the wicked? Idleness desires rest, but what rest is there apart from the Lord? Lux­ ury would like to be called repletion and wealth, but you are fullness and the never-failing abundance of in­ corruptible sweetness. Extravagance masquerades as generosity, but you are the supremely bountiful giver of all good things. Avarice wants to possess many things, but you possess everything. Envy struggles for preeminence. What is more preeminent than you? Anger seeks vengeance. Who exacts vengeance more justly than you? Fear shrinks from unexpected and sudden threats to things it loves, while it takes pre­ cautions to keep them secure. For what is unexpected to you? What is sudden? Or who will separate you from what you love? Or where, except in you, is un­ faltering security? Sadness pines for things it has lost, things that cupidity had delighted in. It would wish to lose nothing, as nothing can be taken away from you. 6 . 1 4. Thus the soul commits fornication when it turns away from you and seeks outside you those things that it cannot find pure and unadulterated un­ less it returns to you. All those who place themselves far from you and exalt themselves against you are per­ versely imitating you. But even in this way, by imitat­ ing you they declare that you are the Creator of all of nature, and so there is nowhere they can flee from you altogether. What, then, did I love in that theft of mine, and in what way was I viciously, petversely, imitating my Lord? Did it please me to act against your law, at least by deceit-since I could not do so by force-and thus mimic the curtailed freedom of a prisoner by get­ ting away with doing what was not permitted, in a shadO\vy likeness of omnipotence' Look at that slave, fleeing his master and chasing after a shadow. What rottenness! What a monstrous life, and what an abyss of death 1 Could he do, freely, what was not permitted, for no other reason than that it was not permitted? 7. 1 ; . What shall I offer to the Lord in thanksgiving for recalling these things to my memory in such a way that my soul is not made fearful thereby? I will love you, Lord, and give thanks to you and confess your name, because you have forgiven me for such wicked and abominable deeds. I owe it to your grace and to your mercy that you have melted my sins like ice. To your grace I owe also whatever evil things I did not do: for what was I not capable of doing, I who loved even

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theft for no reason at all7 And I acknowledge I have been forgiven for all these things, both those I did of my own accord and those I refrained from doing because you were guiding me. Who among human beings, seeing how feeble they are, would dare to as­ cribe their chastity or innocence to their own powers and so love you less, as though they had less need of your mercy, by which you forgive the sins of those who turn to you? As for those who have been called by you and have followed your voice and have avoided the things they have read about me, the things that I have recorded and acknowledged about myself, let them not mock me because I have been healed by the same physician who was present with them so that they did not fall ill - or rather, so that they were less gravely ilL And let them therefore love you as much - no, let them love you even more- because they see that he who has rescued me from the great infirmities of my sins has kept them from being ensnared by such great infirmities of sin. 8 . 16. What fruit had I then, wretch that I was, in these things that I now blush to recall, and especially in that theft in which I loved the theft itself, and noth­ ing else, when indeed the theft was nothing and I was all the more wretched on account of it? And yet I would not have done it by myself- this is how I re­ member my state of mind - I would certainly not have done it by myself. So I also loved the companionship of those with whom I did it. So is it true after all that I loved nothing other than the theft? To be sure, I loved nothing else, since that companionship too is nothing. What is it, really? (Who is it that teaches me, but the one who enlightens my heart and pierces its shadows7) What is iF I am impelled to ask this question and dis­ cuss it and ponder it, because if I had loved the fruit that I stole and wanted to enjoy it, I could have done that even if I had been by myself; if I had been after only the thrill of committing the evil act, I would not have inflamed the itch of my cupidity by rubbing up against souls who shared my guilt But since there was

no pleasure for me in the pears themselves, the pleas­ ure was in the crime itself, and it was my companion­ ship with fellow-sinners that created this pleasure. 9. 1 7 . What was that disposition of mind? It was most assuredly very base, and plainly so; and woe is me, that I had it. But what was it? Who understands sins? It was a joke; our hearts were tickled that we were deceiving people who did not expect us to do such things and fervently wanted us not to. Why, then, did it please me that I was not doing it by myself? Is it that no one is easily moved to laughter when alone? Not easily, perhaps, but still, a laugh will sometimes get the better of people when they are quite alone and no one else is around, if something quite ridiculous strikes their senses or their mind . But I would not have done it by myself. I would certainly not have done it by my­ self. Behold before you, my God, this living recollec­ tion of my souL If I had been by myself, I would not have done that theft in which what pleased me was not what I stole, but that I stole; it would not have pleased me to do it alone, and I wouldn't have done it. 0 you too unfriendly friendship, unsearchable seduction of the mind! Out of playing and joking came a passion to do harm and a desire to damage someone else with­ out any gain for myself, without any lust for revenge ! But when someone says, "Let's go, let's do it," we are ashamed not to be shameless. l 0. 1 8. Who will unloose this most twisted, this most tangled intricacy? It is foul: I shrink from considering it; I do not want to look upon it. I want to look upon you, beautiful and seemly justice and innocence, with honorable eyes and with a desire that is always satisfied but never sated. In your presence there is rest indeed, and a life that knows no disturbance. Those who enter into you enter into the joy of their Lord; they will not be afraid, and all will be supremely well with them as they dwell in the one who is supremely good. I deserted you and wandered away, my God, very much astray from your steadfastness in my youth; and I became for myself a land of destitution.

6. Confessions Book 7 9. 1 3. And first, because it was your will to show me how you resist the proud but give grace to the humble, and how great is your mercy, which you have shown to human beings by the way of humility, in that your Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, you ob­ tained for me, through a certain fellow who was puffed up with the most monstrous arrogance, certain books of the Platonists translated from Greek into Latin. And in them I read- not indeed in these words, but exactly the same teaching, presented persuasively with many arguments of many different kinds-that "in the be­ ginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him nothing was made. What was made is, in him, life;1 and the life was the light of human beings. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not engulfed it." I read also that the human soul, al­ though it "bears witness to the light, is nevertheless not itself that light"; rather, God the Word is "the true light that enlightens every human being who comes into this world." I read also that "he was in the world, and the world was made through him, and the world did not recognize him." But that "he came to his own things, and his own people did not receive him; but to as many as received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God": those things I did not read in them. 9. 1 4. I likewise read in those books that God the Word "was born, not of blood, nor of the will of a man, nor of the will of the flesh, but of God." But that "the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us": that I did not read in them. And indeed I discovered in those

Translated for this volume by Thomas Williams from the edition of James J. O'Donnell, Augustine: Confessions, vol. I (Oxford: Oxford University Press, I 992). I . For this punctuation ofJohn I :4, see Augustine's Trac­ tates on the Gospel of John tr. I . I 7.

writings, stated in many and various ways, that the Son was in the form of the Father but "did not regard equal­ ity with God as robbery," since he is by nature the very same as God. But that "he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave; and being made into the likeness of human beings and found in human form, he hum­ bled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross; therefore God has raised him from the dead and given him a name that is above every name, so that in the name of Jesus every knee will bend, of things in heaven and things on earth and things under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord, to the glory of God the Father": those books did not contain these things. One finds in them that before all times and beyond all times your only­ begotten Son, who is coeternal with you, abides un­ changeably, and that from his fullness souls receive blessedness, and that by sharing in the wisdom that abides in him souls are renewed so that they become wise. But one does not find that within time "he died for the ungodly," and that "you did not spare your only Son, but gave him up for us all." For "you have hidden these things from the wise and revealed them to little children," so that "those who labor and are burdened will come to him, and he will refresh them; for he is meek and humble of heart." And he will guide the meek in judgment and teach the gentle his ways, look­ ing upon our humility and our labor and forgiving all our sins. But as for those who are lofty, as though placed on the pedestal of a more sublime teaching, and so do not hear him saying "Learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls," even if they know God, "they do not glorify him as God or give him thanks; but their thoughts become barren and their foolish hearts are darkened. Though they profess themselves wise, they have become fools." 9. 1 5 . And for this reason I also read in those books that they exchanged the glory of your incorruption for idols and various phantoms, for the likeness of an im­ age of corruptible human beings and birds and four­ footed creatures and serpents, that Egyptian food for 69

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the sake of which Esau gave up his rights as firstborn. For the hearts of your firstborn people were turned back to Egypt, and they worshiped the head of a four­ footed beast instead of you. They bowed your image­ their souls- before the image of a calf that eats hay. 'These things I found there, but I did not partake of them. For it pleased you, Lord, to remove from Jacob the reproach of his inferiority, so that the elder would serve the younger; and you called the nations into your inheritance. And I had come to you from the nations; I had devoted myself to the gold that your people had, by your will, carried off from the land of Egypt- for that gold was yours, no matter where it was. And through your Apostle you said to the Athenians that in you we live and move and have our being, as some of their authorities had said. Those books were indeed from there. But I did not devote myself to the idols of the Egyptians, which they served with your gold, they who transformed the truth of God into a lie and wor­ shiped and served the creature rather than the Creator. 1 0 . 1 6. Admonished by these books to return to my­ self, I entered into my inmost self with you as my guide; and I was able to do this because you had be­ come my helper. I entered, and by some sort of eye of my soul I saw- above that eye of my soul, above my mind - unchangeable Light. It was not the light that is common and visible to all flesh; nor was it a light of the same sort, only nobler, as if the common light had grown clearer and brighter and become so great that it filled all things. :\o, the Light was not that; it was something altogether different from all these things. And it was not above my mind in the way that oil is over water or the sky is above the earth; it was superior, for that Light made me, and I was inferior, for I was made bv it. One who knows the Truth knows this Light, and one who knows this Light knows eternity. Love knows this Light. 0 eternal Truth and true Love and beloved Eternity, you are my God; I sigh for you day and night! And when I first came to know you, you lifted me up so that I could see that what I saw has be­ ing, but that I who saw it did not yet have being. And you repelled the weakness of my gaze, beaming upon me with great force, and I trembled with love and with terror. I found that I was far away from you in a land of unlikeness, as though I heard your voice from on high: " I am food for those who are full-grown; grow,

and you will feed on me. And you will not change me into you, as you change the food of your flesh, but in­ stead you will be changed into me." And I recognized that you have chastened human beings because of their sin and caused my soul to melt away like a spi­ der's web; and I said, "Then is truth nothing, because it is not spread out across any finite or infinite expanse of places?" And you called from afur, ":'lio indeed; truly, I am who I am." And I heard, as one hears in the heart; and I no longer had any room to doubt. I would more easily have doubted that I was alive than I could have doubted the existence of the Truth that is per­ ceived through the things that have been made. 1 1 . 1 7. I examined the other things that are below you, and I saw that they neither wholly have being nor wholly lack being: they do indeed have being because they exist from you; but they lack being, because they are not what you are. For what truly has being is what abides unchangeably. :'vly good, however, is to cleave to God, because if I do not abide in him, he cannot abide in me. But he, abiding in himself, makes all things new; and he is my Lord, because he has no need of the goods that are mine. 1 2. 1 8. And it was made plain to me that things that are corrupted are good. For they could not be cor­ rupted if they were the highest goods, but neither could they be corrupted if they were not good at all. If they were the highest goods, they would be incorrupt­ ible; but if they were not good at all, there would be nothing in them to be corrupted. Corruption, after all, harms something; and unless it diminished some good, it would not do harm. So either corruption harms nothing, which is impossible, or else - what is most certainly the case- everything that is corrupted is de­ prived of some good. :\ow if something is deprived of all good, it will not exist at all. For if it still exists and can no longer be corrupted, it will be better, because it will persist incorruptibly: and what could be more monstrous than to say that something that has lost all good has become better? Therefore, if something is deprived of all good, it will not exist at all. So as long as things exist, they are good. Therefore, all things that have being are good, and that evil whose origin I was inquiring about is not a substance. For if it were a sub­ stance, it would be good, since it would be either an incorruptible substance, and thus of course a great

Confessions

good, or a corruptible substance, which would not be corruptible unless it were good. And so I saw, and it was made plain to me, that you made all things good and that there are no substances that you did not make. And it is because you did not make all things equal that all things exist: for individually they are good, and taken together they are very good, because our God made all things very good. 1 3 . 19. For you evil does not exist at all - and not only for you, but for your whole creation, since there is nothing outside it that breaks in and corrupts the or­ der that you have imposed upon it. To be sure, certain parts of it are regarded as bad because they do not fit harmoniously with other parts; but even they fit with still other parts and thus are good, and they are also good in themselves. And all these things that do not fit harmoniously with each other are well-suited to the inferior portion of things, which we call earth, which has a cloudy and windy sky suited to it. Far be it from me to say, 'These things ought not to be": for even if I could see nothing but them and indeed longed for better things, I would still owe you thanks for these things by themselves. For the things of the earth ­ dragom and all the deeps, fire and hail, snow and ice, the stormy winds that do your word, mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars, beasts and all cattle, rep­ tiles and winged birds- reveal that you are worthy of praise. Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all judges of the earth, young men and maidens, old and young together: let them praise your name. Let them also praise you from the heavens; let them praise you, our Lord. All your angels in the heights, all your powers, the sun and moon, all the stars and the light, the heaven of heavens and the waters that are above the heavens: let them praise your name. I no longer desired better things, because I held all things in my thought; and with a sounder judgment I regarded the higher things as being of course better than the lower, but all things together as being better than the higher things by themselves. 1 4. 20. There is no soundness in those who are dis­ pleased by any creature of yours, just as there was no soundness in me when I was displeased with many things that you made. And because my soul did not have the effrontery to be displeased with my God, it

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did not want anything that displeased i t to b e yours. And from that starting-point it had proceeded to the view that there are two substances; but it did not find rest there, and it gave voice to opinions that were not really its own. And returning from there it had made for itself a god extended through the infinite expanse of all place�; and it thought that this god was you. It set up this god in its heart and again became a tem­ ple for its own idol, an abomination before you. Yet afterwards you laid my head upon your lap, though I did not know it, and you closed my eyes so that I would not look upon worthlessness. For a little while I rested from myself, and my frenzy was lulled to sleep; and I woke up and saw that you are infinite, but in a different way. And that vision did not derive from the flesh. 1 5 . 2 1 . And I turned my attention to other things, and I saw that they owe their existence to you, and that all finite things exist in you, though in a different way. They do not exist in you as though in a place, but in the sense that you hold all things in your hand, the Truth, and they are all true insofar as they have being. :\or is falsity anything, except when one thinks that something is what it is not. I saw also that all things fit harmoniously not only with their places but also with their times, and that you, who alone are eternal, did not begin to act after countless intervals of times; for all intervals of times, those that have passed away and those that will pass away, would neither go away nor come to be apart from your acting and abiding. 1 6.22. I had learned by experience that it is no sur­ prise when bread that tastes sweet to a healthy palate is repugnant to one that is unhealthy, and when light that is pleasant to untainted eyes is hateful to eyes that are diseased. Even your righteousness displeases the wicked, let alone vipers and worms, which you created good and well-suited to the lower parts of your cre­ ation -to which the wicked themselves are well-suited, the more unlike you they are; but they are well-suited for the higher parts, the more they become like you. And I asked what wickedness was, and what I found was not a substance, but rather the perversity of a will that is turned away from the supreme substance- from you, 0 God -a will that casts away what lies within itself and is swollen with what is found outside.

7 . Confessions Book l l 3 . 5 . I would like to hear and understand how in the beginning you made heaven and earth. Moses wrote these words. He wrote them and departed; he passed over from here, from you to you, and he is not now be­ fore me. If he were, I could get hold of him and ask him and implore him, for your sake, to explain them to me. And I would open my ears to the sounds that would emerge from his mouth. If he spoke in Hebrew, he would strike against my sense in vain, and nothing of what he said would touch my mind; but if he spoke in Latin, I would know what he was saying. But from what source would I know whether it was true? And if I did know this, I would surely not know it from him, would I? ;'\;o, indeed: the inward truth, within me in the dwelling-place of my thought, would say to me­ not in Hebrew or Greek or Latin or any barbarous lan­ guage, without any organ of mouth or tongue, without any rattling of syllables -"What he says is true." And I with certainty and confidence would immediately say to him, "What you say is true." So, since I cannot ques­ tion Moses, I ask you, God; it was by being filled with you, who are Truth, that Moses said true things. I ask you, God: have mercy on my sins, and as you em­ powered your servant to say these things, empower me to understand them. 4.6. Consider: heaven and earth exist. They cry out that they were made, for they undergo change and variation. By contrast, if anything was not made and yet exists, there is nothing in it that was not in it before - which is what it is to undergo change and variation. They also cry out that they did not make themselves: "We exist because we were made. So be­ fore we existed, we were not anything, so as to be able to make ourselves." And it is by their manifest charac­ ter that they say these things. Therefore, you, 0 Lord,

Translated for this volume by Thomas Williams from the edition of James J. O'Donnell, Augustine: Confessions, vol. I ( Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1 992). 72

made them: you who are beautiful (for they are beau­ tiful), who are good (for they are good), who have be­ ing (for they have being). And they are not as beautiful or as good as you, their Creator, nor do they have be­ ing as you have being; in comparison with you they have neither goodness nor beauty nor being. We know these things, thanks to you; and our knowledge, in comparison with yours, is but ignorance. 5 .7. But how did you make heaven and earth? What was the mechanism by which you carried out so great a work of yours? A human craftsman decides to shape a material thing, and the soul that makes this de­ cision has the power, somehow, to impose on that ma­ terial thing a form that it perceives within itself by its inward eye. But this is not how you form material things -and indeed how would a human craftsman have the power to do this, except because you made his mind? Further, he imposes a form on something that already exists and has being, such as earth or stone or wood or gold or something of that sort. And how would any of those things exist unless you had estab­ lished them? You made the craftsman's body. You made the soul that commands his bodily members. You made the matter out of which he makes some­ thing. You made the talent by which he grasps his art and sees within himself what he will make outside himself. You made the bodily sense by which he trans­ lates his work from mind into matter and then reports back to the mind what he has made, so that he may take counsel with the truth that presides within him to see whether the work has been well made. All these things praise you, the Creator of them all. But how did you make them? How, God, did you make heaven and earth? It was not in heaven and earth that you made heaven and earth; nor was it in the air or in the waters, for they too belong to heaven and earth. :\or you did you make the whole world in the whole world, since before it was made, there was no place in which it could be made so that it might exist. Nor did you hold in your hand something from which you would make heaven and earth, for where would this thing have come &om-this thing that you did

Confessions not make - from which you would make something? What, indeed, exists at all, except because you exist? Therefore, you spoke and they were made; and in your word you made them. 6.8. But how did you speak? Was it in the same way in which a voice came from the cloud, saying, "This is my beloved Son"? That voice went forth and was completed; it had a beginning and an ending. Its syl­ lables sounded and passed away: the second after the first, the third after the second, and the rest in order, until the last syllable sounded after all the rest, and af­ ter the last was silence. From this it is clear and evi­ dent that the movement of a creature pronounced that voice; it was a temporal thing serving your eternal wilL These words of yours, made in accordance with time, were conveyed by the outward ear to the understand­ ing mind whose inward ear is attuned to your eternal Word. Then the mind compared these words that sounded in time with your eternal Word in his silence, and it said, "They are far different. They are far differ­ ent 1bese temporal words are far beneath me; nor do they really have being, since they flee and pass away. But the Word of my God is above me, and he abides for ever." So if it was by words that sounded and then passed away that you spoke, so that heaven and earth might be made, and in that way you made heaven and earth, then there was already some bodily creature be­ fore you made heaven and earth, and by the temporal movements of that creature your utterance was ex­ tended through time. But there was no body before heaven and earth - or if there was, you had certainly made it without any transitory speech, so that from it you would make the transitory speech by which you would say, "Let heaven and earth be made." For what­ ever that might have been, by which such a speech would be made, it would not have existed at all unless you had made it. By what word, then, did you make the body by which those words would be made? 7.9. And so you call us into understanding the Word, God with you, 0 God: the Word who is uttered eternally and by whom all things are uttered eternally. It is not that one word is completed and then another word is spoken, so that all things may be uttered; all are uttered at once and eternally. Otherwise there would already be time and change, not true eternity and true immortality. I know this, my God, and I give

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you thanks. I know this and I confess to you, Lord; and everyone who is thankful for assured truth joins me in knowing it and in blessing you. We know this, Lord; we know this because insofar as anything is not what it once was, and is what it once was not, it passes away and comes to be. Therefore, nothing of your Word gives place to another or follows another, since he is truly immortal and eternaL And so it is by the Word, cocternal with you, that you all at once and eternally utter all the things that you utter; and it is by him that whatever you speak into existence is made. You make these things precisely by speaking them, and yet the things that you make by speaking are not made all at once, and they are not made to be eternaL 8 . 1 0 . Why is this, l ask you, 0 Lord my God? I do see it, in a way, but I do not know how to express it, unless it is because all that begins to be and ceases to be begins and ceases at the right time as it is known in the eternal reason where nothing either begins or ceases. This is your eternal Word, who is also the beginning, because he speaks to us. In this way he speaks to us in the Gospel through the flesh; he pro­ claimed it outwardly to human ears so that the word might be bel ieved and sought within and found in that eternal truth where the good Teacher, the only Teacher, teaches all his students. In that eternal truth, 0 Lord, I hear your voice, the voice of one who is speaking to me. For anyone who teaches us speaks to us, whereas one who does not teach us does not speak to us, even if he does speak. And indeed what teaches us, besides unwavering Truth? For even when we are admonished by a changeable creature, we are led to unwavering Truth; that is where we truly learn when we stand and listen to him and exult with joy because of the bridegroom's voice, giving our­ selves back to him from whom we have our being. And this is why he is the Beginning: for if he did not abide when we went astray, there would be nowhere for us to return. :\ow when we return from error, it is of course by knowing that we return; and in order that we might know, he teaches us, because he is the Be­ ginning and speaks to us. 9. 1 1 . In this Beginning, God, you made heaven and earth in your Word, your Son, your Power, your Wisdom, uttering them in a wondrous way, and in a wondrous way making them. Who can grasp this?

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Who can set it forth in words? What is this that shines through me and buffets my heart without injury? I shudder and I am alight: I shudder insofar as I am un­ like him; I am alight insofar as I am like him. It is Wis­ dom, Wisdom itself that shines through me and pierces the clouds that surround me. But when I fall away from Wisdom because of that gloom and the bur­ den of my punishments, the clouds envelop me again. For in my neediness my strength has wasted away, so that I cannot support my good until you, Lord, who have forgiven all my sins, also heal all my infirmities; for you will also redeem my life from corruption and crown me with mercy and loving-kindness; and you will satisfy my desire with good things, since my youth will be renewed like an eagle's. For in hope we have been saved, and through patience we look for your promises. Let those who are able hear you speaking within. I will cry out confidently in words that you have provided: " How magnificent are your works, 0 Lord; in Wisdom you have made them all." And that Wisdom is the Beginning, and in that Beginning you made heaven and earth. 1 0 . 1 2 . Those who say to us, "What was God doing before he made heaven and earth?" are undoubtedly full of their old carnal nature. " For if he was idle," they say, "and was not doing anything, why did he not al­ ways stay that way from then on, just as up to that point he had always refrained from action? After all, if some new motion and new will arose in God, so that he cre­ ated something he had never created before, how will that be a true eternity in which a will comes into be­ ing that once did not exist? For God's will is not a crea­ ture; it is before any creature, since nothing would be created unless the Creator's will came first. Therefore, God's will belongs to his very substance. And if some­ thing came into being in God's substance that had not existed before, his substance cannot with truth be called eternal. Yet if God's will that creation should ex­ ist is eternal, why is creation not also eternal'" 1 1 . 1 3 . Those who say these things do not yet un­ derstand you, 0 Wisdom of God, Light of:'viinds; they do not yet understand how those things are made that are made by you and in you. Such people strive to be wise concerning what is eternal, but their heart is still flitting about in past and future movements of things and is still deceived. Who will catch hold of their heart

and pin it down so that it will be still for just a little while and seize, for just a little while, the glory of an eternity that remains ever steadfast and set it beside times that never remain steadfast and see that eternity is in no way comparable to them? Then their heart would see that a time can become long only through many movements that pass away and cannot be stretched out all at once, but that in eternity nothing passes away, but the whole is present-whereas no time is present as a whole. And their heart would see that everything past is thrust back from the future and everything future follows upon the past, and every­ thing past and future is created and set in motion by that which is always present. Who will catch hold of the human heart so that it will be still and see how eter­ nity, which stands still and so has neither past nor fu­ ture, decrees both future and past times? Does my hand have the strength to do this? Does the hand of my mouth accomplish so great a deed by the power of its speech? 1 2. 14. Look, I shall answer the one who asks, "What was God doing before he made heaven and earth?" I do not give the answer that one fellow is reported to have given, making a joke to evade the force of the question: "He was preparing hell for people who pry into deep matters." Ridiculing a question is quite dif­ ferent from seeing the answer, so that is not how I will respond. I would much more willingly say "I don't know" when I don't know than offer a response that mocks someone who has asked about deep matters and wins me praise for a false answer. Rather, I say that you, our God, are the Creator of every creature; and if by "heaven and earth" is meant every creature, then I confidently say, "Before God made heaven and earth, he was not making or doing anything." After all, if he was making something, what would he have been making other than some creature? If only I knew everything that I desire to know for my own benefit with as much clarity as I know that no creah1re was made before any creature was made! 1 3 . 1 5 . But if some flighty mind wanders through images of times gone by and marvels that you, Almighty and All-creating and All-sustaining God, :'viaker of heaven and earth, should have refrained for countless ages from so great a work until at last you carried it out, he needs to wake up and pay attention, because he is

Confessions marveling at falsehoods. How could countless ages pass that you had not made? For you are the author and creator of all the ages. And what were these times that you had not created? How could they have passed if they never existed? Since, therefore, all times are your work, what sense does it make to say that you re­ frained from any work if in fact there was some time before you made heaven and earth? That time itself was something you had made; times could not pass be­ fore you made times. But if there was no time before you made heaven and earth, what sense is there in ask­ ing what you were doing then? There was no "then," for there was no time. 1 3 . 16. It is not in time that you precede time, since otherwise you would not precede all times. :-.Jo, it is by the loftiness of ever-present eternity that you precede all past things, and you surpass all future things be­ cause they are future, and once they have come, they will be past. But you are the selfsame, and your years will not fail. Your years do not come and go. Our years come and go, so that they all may come; your years stand all at once because they stand still, and those that go do not give way to those that come, for your years do not pass away. Our years will be com­ pleted only when they will all no longer exist. Your years are one day, and your day is not day-after- � ; grant that I might eat after I sigh. Lord, I am bent double; I can only look down. Raise me up so that I can tum my gaze upwards. ":\1y sins are heaped up over my head" and entangle me; "like a heavy burden" they weigh me down . 1 6 Extricate me; 7. 8. 9. 1 0. I I.

12. 1 3. 14. 1 5. 1 6.

Ps. 1 22:9 ( 1 2 1 :9). Jer. 14: 1 9. Ps. 1 1 6: 3 ( 1 14:3). Ps. 38:8 ( 37:9) . Ps. 6 : 3 (6 : 4). Cf. Ps. 1 3 : 1 ( 1 2: 1 ) . Cf. Ps. 1 3: 3 ( 1 2:4). Cf. Pss. 80: 3,7, 1 9 (79:4, 8, 20) . Job 3:24. Ps. 3 8:4 (37:5).

lift my burdens, "lest like a pit they swallow me up." 17 Let me look up at your light, whether from afar or from the depths. Teach me how to seek you, and show your­ self to me when I seek. For I cannot seek you unless you teach me how, and I cannot find you unless you show yourself to me. Let me seek you in desiring you; let me desire you in seeking you. Let me find you in loving you; let me love you in finding you. I acknowledge, Lord, and I thank you, that you have created in me this image of you so that I may re­ member you, think of you, and love you. Yet this im­ age is so eroded by my vices, so clouded by the smoke of my sins, that it cannot do what it was created to do unless you renew and refashion it. I am not trying to scale your heights, Lord; my understanding is in no way equal to that. But I do long to understand your truth in some way, your truth which my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand in order to believe; I believe in order to understand. For I also be­ lieve that "Unless I believe, I shall not understand." 1 8 "-. � ·. ·.

" r ·• - ·.·� ·

tJ , ·•· •

Chapter 2 That God truly exists Therefore, Lord, you who grant understanding to faith, grant that, insofar as you know it is useful for me, I may understand that you exist as we believe you ex­ ist, and that you are what we believe you to be. :\ow we believe that you are something than which noth­ ing greater can be thought. So can it be that no such nature exists, since 'The fool has said in his heart, 'There is no God"'719.But when this same fool hears me say "something than which nothing greater can be thought," he surely understands what he hears; and

1 7. Ps. 69: 1 5 (68: 1 6). 1 8. Cf. lsa. 7:9 in the Old Latin version: "Unless you be­ lieve, you will not understand." Anselm is here indebted to Augustine, who frequently appealed to this verse in ex· plaining his views on the relationship between faith and reason. 1 9. Pss. 14: 1 ( 1 3 : 1 ); 5 3 : 1 ( 52: 1 ) .

Proslogion what he understands exists in his understanding, 20 even if he does not understand that it exists [ in real­ ity] . For it is one thing for an object to exist in the un­ derstanding and quite another to understand that the object exists [in reality].When a painter, for example, thinks out in advance what he is going to paint, he has it in his understanding, but he does not yet understand that it exists, since he has not yet painted it. But once he has painted it, he both has it in his understanding and understands that it exists because he has now painted it. So even the fool must admit that something than which nothing greater can be thought exists at least in his understanding, since he understands this when he hears it, and whatever is understood exists in f the understanding. Mnd surely that than which a ; greater cannot be tifought cannot exist only in the un­ / derstanding. For if it exi_sts ? nly i� the understa�din�, it can be thoug ht to ex1st m reality as well, wh1ch 1s greater. So if lhat than which a greater cannot be ' though t exists only in the understanding, then the very thing than which a greater cannot be thought is some­ thing than which a greater can be thought. But that is clearly impossible. Therefore, there is no doubt that something than which a greater cannot be thought ex­ ists both in the understanding and in reality.

Chapter 3 That he cannot be thought not to exist This [being] exists so truly that it cannot even be _thought not to exist. For it is possible to think thaf something exists that cannot be thought not to exist, and such a being is greater than_ one that can be thought not to exist. The_!efore, if that than which a_ greater cannot be thought can be thought not to exist, then that than which a greater cannot be thought is not that than which a greater cannot be thought; and 20. The word here translated 'understanding' is intellec­ tus. The text would perhaps read better if I translated it as 'intellect,' but this would obscure the fact that it is from the same root as the verb intelligere, 'to understand.' Some of what Anselm says makes a bit more sense if this fact is constantly borne in mind.

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this is a contradiction. So that than which a greater cannot be thought exists so truly that it cannot even be thought not to exist. And this is you, 0 Lord our God. You exist so truly, 0 Lord my God, that you cannot even be thought not to exist. And rightly so, for if some mind could think something better than you, a creature would rise above the Creator and sit in judgment upon him, which is completely absurd. Indeed, everything that exists, except for you alone, can be thought not to ex­ ist. So you alone among all things have existence most truly, and therefore most greatly; for whatever else ex­ ists has existence less truly, and therefore less greatly So then why did "the fool say in his heart, 'There is no God,' " when it is so evident to the rational mind that you among all beings exist most greatly? Why indeed, except because he is stupid and a fool?

Chapter 4 How the fool said in his heart what cannot be thought But how has he said in his heart what he could not think? Or how could he not think what he said in his heart, since to say in one's heart is the same as to think? But if he really-or rather, since he really- thought this, because he said it in his heart, and did not say it in his heart, because he could not think it, there must be more than one way in which something is "said in one's heart" or "thought." In one way, to think a thing is to think the word that signifies that thing./But in an­ other way, it is to understandr;,hat the thing �- God can be thought not to exist in the first way, but not at all in the second way. :\o one who understands what God is can think that God does not exist, although he may say these words in his heart with no signification at all, or with some peculiar signification. For God is that than which a greater cannot be thought. Whoever understands this properly, understands that this being exists in such a way that he cannot, even in thought, fail to exist. So whoever understands that God exists in this way cannot think that he does not exist. Thanks be to you, my good Lord, thanks be to you. For what I once believed through your grace, I now understand through your illumination, so that even if

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I did not want to believe that you exist, I could not fail to understand that you exist.

Chapter

In what sense God is omnipotent even though there are many things he cannot do

5

That God is whatever it is better to be than not to be; and that he alone exists through himself and makes all other things from nothing \

Chapter 7

Then what are you, Lord God, than which nothing greater can be thought? What are you, if not the great­ ' est of all beingsfwho alone exists through himse!fand made all other things from nothin0' For whatever is not this is less than the greatest that can be thought; but this cannot be thought of you. What good is miss­ ing from the supreme good, through which every good thing exists? And so you are just, truthful, happy, and whatever it is better to be than not to be. For it is bet­ ter to be just than unjust, and better to be happy than unhappy.

Chapter 6 How God can perceive even though he is not a body \"ow it is better to be percipient, omnipotent, merci­ ful, and impassible than not. But how can you perceive if you are not a body? How can you be omnipotent if you cannot do everything? How can you be both mer­ ciful and impassible? If only corporeal things can per­ ceive, because the senses exist in a body and are directed toward bodies, then how can you perceive? For you are not a body but the highest spirit, which is better than any body. But if to perceive is just to know, or is aimed at knowledge - for whoever perceives knows according to the appropriate sense, as, for example, we know col­ ors through sight and flavors through taste - then it is not inappropriate to say that whatever in some way knows also in some way perceives. Therefore, Lord, al­ though you are not a body, you are indeed supremely percipient in the sense that you supremely know all things, not in the sense in which an animal knows things through its bodily senses.

But how are you omnipotent if you cannot do every­ thing?21 And how can you do everything if you cannot be corrupted, or lie, or cause what is true to be false (as, for example, to cause what has been done not to have been done), or many other such things? . Or is the ability to do these things not power but �eak-;] ess? For someone who can do these things can do what is not beneficial to himself and what he ought not to do. And the more he can do these things, the more power misfortune and wickedness have over him, and the less he has over them. So whoever can do these things can do them, not in virtue of his power but in virtue of his weakness. So when we say that he . "can" do these things, it is not because he has the power to do them, but because his weakness gives something else power over him. Or else it is some other mannerof speaking, such as we often use in speaking loosely. For example, we sometimes say 'to be' instead of 'not to be,' or 'to do' instead of 'not to do' or 'to do nothing.' For often when someone denies that some­ thing exists, we say "It is as you say it is"; but it would seem more correct to say "It is not as you say it is not." Again, we say "This man is sitting just as that man is doing" or "This man is resting just as that man is do­ ing"; but to sit is not to do anything, and to rest is to do nothing. In the same way, then, when someone is said to have the "power" to do or suffer something that is not beneficial to himself or that he ought not to do, by 'power' we really mean 'weakness.' For the more he has this "power," the more power misfortune and wickedness have over him, and the less he has over

2 1 . This chapter is full of word play in the Latin that does not all come across in English. The words for 'power' (po­ tentia), 'weakness' (impotentia ), and various forms of the verb 'can' (posse)-also translated here as 'have power'­ all share a common stem. And the word for 'omnipotent' (omnipotens) means literally "able to do everything" (om­ nia patens).

Proslogion them. Therefore, Lord God, you are all the more truly omnipotent because you can do nothing through weak­ ness, and nothing has power over you.

Chapter 8 How God is both merciful and impassible But how are you both merciful and impassible? For if you are impassible, you do not feel compassion, and if you do not feel compassion, your heart is not sorrow­ ful out of compassion for sorrow; and that is what be­ ing merciful is. 22 But if you are not merciful, how is i t that you are such a comfort t o t h e sorrowful? So how, Lord, are you both merciful and not mer.. ciful? Is it not because you are merciful in relation to ,· � � �; � . . //' ns but not m relation to yoursel f? You are indeed mer.\.1 ciful according to what we feel, but not according to what you feel. For when you look with favor upon us in our sorrow, we feel the effect [ effectum] of mercy, but you do not feel the emotion [affectum] of mercy. So you are merciful, because you save the sorrowful and spare those who sin against you; but you are also not merciful, because you are not afflicted with any feeling of compassion for sorrow.

Chapter

9

How the one who is completely and supremely just spares the wicked and justly has mercy on them But how do you spare the wicked if you are completely and supremely just? For how does the one who is com­ pletely and supremely just do something that is not just? And what sort of justice is it to give everlasting life to someone who deserves eternal death? How then, 0 good God, good to the good and to the wicked, how do you save the wicked if this is not just and you do not do anything that is not just? Or, since your goodness is incomprehensible, does this lie h idden in the unapproachable light in which

22. In Latin, "sorrowful heart" is miserum cor; 'merciful' misericors.

is

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you dwell?23 It is indeed in the highest and most se­ cret place of your goodness that the spring is hidden whence the river ofyour mercy flows. For although you are totally and supremely just, you are nonetheless kind even to the wicked, since you are totally and su­ premely good. After all, you would be less good if you were not kind to any wicked person. For one who is good both to the good and to the wicked is better than one who is good only to the good, and one who is good to the wicked both in punishing and in sparing them is better than one who is good only in punishing them. So it follows that you are merciful precisely because you are totally and supremely good. And while it may be easy to see why you repay the good with good and the evil with evil, one must certainly wonder why you, who are totally just and lack for nothing, give good things to your evil and guilty creatures. 0 God, how exalted is your goodness! We can see the source of your mercy, and yet we cannot discern i t clearly. We know whence the river flows, but w e do not see the spring from which it issues. For it is out of the fullness of goodness that you are kind to sinners, while the reason why you are lies hidden in the heights of goodness. True, out of goodness you repay the good with good and the evil with evil, but the very nature of justice seems to demand this. When you give good things to the wicked, however, one knows that he who is supremely good willed to do this, and yet one won­ ders why he who is supremely just could have willed such a thing. 0 mercy, from what rich sweetness and sweet rich­ ness you flow forth for us! 0 immeasurable goodness of God, how intensely ought sinners to love you! You save the just whom justice commends and set free those whom justice condemns. The just are saved with the help of their merits, sinners despite their merits. The just are saved because you look upon the good things you have given them, sinners because you over­ look the evil things you hate. 0 immeasurable good­ ness that thus "surpasses all understanding"!24 Let the mercy that proceeds from your great riches come

2 3 . l Tim. 6:16. 24. Phil. 4:7.

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upon me. Let that which flows forth from you flow over me. Spare me through your mercy, lest you exact retribution through your justice. For even if it is diffi­ cult to understand how your mercy coexists with your justice, one must nonetheless believe that it is in no way opposed to justice, because it flows out of your goodness, and there is no goodness apart from jus­ tice- indeed, goodness is actually in harmony with justice. In fact, if you are merciful because you are supremely good, and supremely good only because you are supremely just, then you are indeed merciful precisely because you are supremely just. Help me, 0 just and merciful God, whose light I seek, help me to understand what I am saying. You are indeed merci­ ful because you are just. So, then, is your mercy born ofyour justice? Do you spare the wicked because of your justice? If it is so, Lord, if it is so, teach me how it is so. Is it because it is just for you to be so good that you cannot be under­ stood to be better, and to act so powerfully that you can­ not be thought to act more powerfully? For what could be more just than this? And this would certainly not be the case if you were good only in punishing and not in sparing, and if you made only those not yet good to be good and did not do this also for the wicked. And so it is in this sense just that you spare the wicked and make them good. And finally, what is not done justly should not be done, and what should not be done is done un­ justly. So if it were not just for you to be merciful to the wicked, you should not be merciful; and if you should not be merciful, you would act unjustly in being mer­ ciful. But since it is wrong to say this, it is right to be­ lieve that you act justly in being merciful to the wicked.

Chapter

10

How God justly punishes and justly spares the wicked But it is also just for you to punish the wicked. For what could be more just than for the good to receive good things and the wicked bad things? So how is it both just that you punish the wicked and just that you spare the wicked? Or do you justly punish the wicked in one way and justly spare them in another? For when you punish the

wicked, this is just, because it accords with their mer­ itsibut when you spare the wicked, this is just, not be­ cause it is in keeping with their merits, but because it is in keeping with your goodness. In sparing the wicked you are just in relation to yourself but not in relation to us, in the same way that you are merciful in relation to us but not in relation to yourself. Thus, in saving us whom you might justly destroy, you are merciful, not because you experience any emotion, but because we experience the effect of your mercy; and in the same way, you are just, not because you give us our due, but because you do what is fitting for you who are supremely good. And so in this way you justly punish and justly pardon without any inconsistency.

Chapter

11

How "all the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth," and yet "the Lord is just in all his ways" But is it not also just in relation to yourself, 0 Lord, for you to punish the wicked? It is certainly just for you to be so just that you cannot be thought to be more just. And you would by no means be so just if you only repaid the good with good and did not repay the wicked with evil. For one who treats both the good and the wicked as they deserve is more just than one who does so only for the good. Therefore, 0 just and benev­ olent God, it is just in relation to you both when you punish and when you pardon. Thus indeed "all the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth,''25 and yet "the Lord is just in all his ways."26 And there is no incon­ sistency here, for it is not just for those to be saved whom you will to punish, and it is not just for those to be condemned whom you will to spare. For only what you will is just, and only what you do not will is not just. Thus your mercy is born of your justice, since it is just for you to be so good that you are good even in sparing the wicked. And perhaps this is why the one who is supremely just can will good things for the wicked. But even if one can somehow grasp why you can will to save the wicked, certainly no reasoning can

2 5 . Ps. 2 5 : 1 0 (24: 1 0). 26. Ps. 145: 1 7 ( 1 44: 1 7).

Proslogion comprehend why, from those who are alike in wicked­ ness, you save some rather than others through your supreme goodness and condemn some rather than others through your supreme justice. Thus you are indeed percipient, omnipotent, mer­ ciful, and impassible, just as you are living, wise, good, happy, eternal, and whatever it is better to be than not

to be.

place, it can at the same time be wholly in another place but not everywhere; and this is true of created spirits. For if the soul were not present as a whole in each part of its body, it would not as a whole sense each part. Therefore, Lord, you are uniquely un­ bounded and eternal, and yet other spirits are also un­ bounded and eternal.

Chapter Chapter

12

That God is the very life by which he lives, and so on for similar attributes But clearly, you are whatever you are, not through any­ thing else, but through yourself. Therefore, you are the very life by which you live, the wisdom by which you are wise, and the very goodness by which you are good to the good and to the wicked, and so on for sim­ ilar attributes.

Chapter

13 ·r

How h e alone is unbounded and eternal, although other spirits are unbounded and eternal

�hing that is at all enclosed in a place or a time � than that which is not restrained by any law of

place or time. Therefore, since nothing is greater than you, you are not confined to any place or time; you ex­ ist everywhere and always. Since this can be said of you alone, you alone are unbounded and eternal. So how can other spirits also be said to be unbounded and eternal? And indeed you alone are eternal, because you alone of all beings do not cease to exist, j ust as you do not begin to exist. But how are you alone unbounded? Is it that a created spirit is bounded compared to you but unbounded compared to a body? Surely some­ thing is completely bounded if, when it is in one place, it cannot at the same time be somewhere else. This is true only of bodies. On the other hand, some­ thing is unbounded if it is wholly everywhere at once, and this is true of you alone. But something is both bounded and unbounded if, when it is wholly in one

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How and why God is both seen and not seen by those who seek him Have you found what you were seeking, 0 my soul? You were seeking God, and you have found that he is the highest of all beings, than which nothing better can be thought; that he is life itself, light, wisdom, good­ ness, eternal happiness and happy eternity; and that he exists always and everywhere. If you have not found your God, how is he the one whom you have found, whom you have understood with such certain truth and true certainty? But if you have found him, why do you not perceive what you have found? Why does my soul not perceive you, 0 Lord God, if it has found you? Or has it not found him whom it found to be light and truth? For how did it understand this, if not by see­ ing that light and truth? Could it have understood any­ thing at all about you except by "your light and your truth"?2� Therefore, if it has seen the light and the truth, it has seen you. If it has not seen you, it has not

seen the light or the truth. Or perhaps it was indeed the light and the truth that it saw, but it has not yet seen you, because it saw you only in part and did not see you as you really are.28 0 Lord my God, you who have fashioned and re­ fashioned me, tell my longing soul what you are be­ sides what it has seen, that it might see purely what it longs to see. It strives to see more, but beyond what it has already seen it sees nothing but darkness. Or rather, it does not see darkness, for in you there is no darkness;29 it sees that it cannot see more because of

27. Ps. 43:3 (42:3). 28. Cf. I John 3:2. 29. Cf. I John 1 : 5 .

:

.

.

.

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its own darkness. Why is this, Lord, why is this? Is its eye darkened by its own infirmity, or is it dazzled by your splendor? Surely it is both darkened in itself and dazzled by you. Indeed it is both obscured by its own littleness and overwhelmed by your vastness. Truly it is both pinched by its own narrowness and vanquished by your fullness. How great is that light, for from it flashes every truth that enlightens the rational mind! How full is that truth, for in it is everything that is true, and outside it is only nothingness and falsehood! How vast it is, for in one glance it sees all created things, and it sees by whom and through whom and how they were created from nothing! What purity, what sim­ plicity, what certainty and splendor are there! Truly it is more than any creature can understand. ->

Chapter

1;

Chapter

17

That in God there is harmony, fragrance, savor, softness, and beauty in his own ineffable way

16

Still, 0 Lord, you are hidden from my soul in your light and happiness, and so it still lives in its darkness and misery. It looks around, but it does not see your beauty. It listens, but it does not hear your harmony. It smells, but it does not perceive your fragrance. It tastes, but it does not know your savor. It touches, but it does not sense your softness. For you have these qualities in you, 0 Lord God, in your own ineffable way; and you have given them in their own percepti­ ble way to the things you created. But the senses of my soul have been stiffened, dulled, and obstructed by the longstanding weakness of sin.

That this is the unapproachable light in which he dwells

Chapter

That God is greater than can be thought Therefore, Lord, you are not merely that than which a greater cannot be though( you are :Something greater than can be though( For since it is possible to think that such a being exists, then if you are not that being, it is possible to think something greater than you. But that is impossible.

Chapter

and the eye of my soul cannot bear to look into it for long. It is dazzled by its splendor, vanquished by its fullness, overwhelmed by its vastness, perplexed by its extent. 0 supreme and unapproachable light, 0 com­ plete and blessed truth, how far you are from me while I am so close to you! How far you are from my sight while I am so present to yours! You are wholly present everywhere, and yet I do not see you. "In you I move and in you I have my being,''3 1 and yet I cannot ap­ proach your presence. You are within me and all around me, and yet I do not perceive you.

Truly, Lord, this is the unapproachable light in which you dwell. 3° For surely there is no other being that can penetrate this light so that it might see you there. In­ deed, the reason that I do not see it is that it is too much for me. And yet whatever I do see, I see through it, just as a weak eye sees what it sees by the light of the sun, although it cannot look at that light directly in the sun itself. Yly understanding cannot see that light. It is too dazzling; my understanding does not grasp it, 30. Cf. I Tim. 6: 1 6.

18

That there are no parts in God or in his eternity, which he himself is Once again, "behold, confusion!"32 Behold, once again mourning and sorrow stand in the way of one seeking joy and happiness. My soul hoped for satis­ faction, and once again it is overwhelmed by need. I tried to eat my fill, but I hunger all the more. I strove 3 I . Cf. Acts 1 7:28. 32. Jer. 14: 19.

Proslogion to rise to the light of God, but I fell back down into my own darkness. Indeed, I did not merely fall into it; I find myself entangled in it. I fell before "my mother conceived me."33 I was indeed conceived in darkness; I was born enshrouded in darkness. Truly, we all fell long ago in him "in whom we all sinned."34 In him, who easily possessed it and wickedly lost it for himself and for us, we all lost what we desire to seek but do not know; what we seek but do not find; what we find but is not what we sought. Help me "because ofyour good­ ness, 0 Lord."" I have sought your face; your face, Lord, will I seek. Turn not your face from me."36 Lift me up from myself to you. Cleanse, heal, sharpen, "enlighten the eye"37 of my soul so that I may look upon you. Let my soul gather its strength, and let it once more strive with all its understanding to reach you, 0 Lord. What are you, Lord, what are you? What shall my heart understand you to be? Surely you are life, you are wisdom, you are truth, you are goodness, you are happiness, you are eternity, and you are every true good. These are many things; my narrow understand­ ing cannot see so many things in one glance and de­ light in all of them at once. How then, Lord, are you all these things? Are they parts of you? Or rather, is not each of them all that you are? For whatever is com­ posed of parts is not completely one. It is in some sense a plurality and not identical with itself, and it can be broken up either in fact or at least in the understand­ ing. But such characteristics are foreign to you, than whom nothing better can be thought. Therefore, there are no parts in you, Lord, and you are not a plurality. Instead, you are so much a unity, so much identical with yourself, that you are in no respect dissimilar to yourself. You are in fact unity itself; you cannot be di­ vided by any understanding. Therefore, life and wis­ dom and the rest are not parts of you; they are all one. Each of them is all of what you are, and each is what 3 3. 34. 35. 36. 37.

Ps. 5 l ; ; ( 50: 7). Rom. 5 : 1 2. Ps. 2 5 :7 ( 24:7). Ps. 27:8-9 (26:8-9). Ps. 1 3 :3 ( 1 2:4).

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the rest are. And since you have no parts, and neither does your eternity, which you yourself are, it follows that no part of you or of your eternity exists at a certain place or time. Instead, you exist as a whole every­ where, and your eternity exists as a whole always.

Chapter

19

That God is not i n a place or a time, but all things are in him But if by your eternity you have been, and are, and will be, and if to have been is not the same as to be in the future, and to be is not the same as to have been or to be in the future, then how does your eternity exist as a whole always? Is it that nothing of your eternity is in the past in such a way that it no longer exists, and nothing is in the future as if it did not exist already? So it is not the case that yesterday you were and tomorrow you will be; rather, yesterday, today, and tomorrow you are. In fact, it is not even the case that yesterday, today, and tomorrow you are; rather, you are in an unqualified sense, outside time altogether. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow are merely in time. But you, although noth­ ing exists without you, do not exist in a place or a time; rather, all things exist in you. For nothing contains you, but you contain all things.

Chapter 20 That he is before and beyond even all eternal things Therefore you fill and embrace all things; you are be­ fore and beyond all things. And indeed you are before all things, since before they came into being, you al­ ready are. 38 But how are you beyond all things? In what way are you beyond those things that will have no end? Is it because they can in no way exist without you, whereas you do not exist any less even if they return to nothingness? For in this way you are in a certain 38. Cf. Ps. 90:2 (89:2).

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sense beyond them. And is it also because they can be thought to have an end, whereas you cannot at all? Thus they do in one sense have an end, but you do not in any sense. And certainly what does not in any sense have an end is beyond what does in some sense come to an end. And do you not also surpass even all eternal things in that both your and their eternity is wholly present to you, whereas they do not yet possess the part of their eternity that is yet to come, just as they no longer possess the part that is past? In this way you are indeed always beyond them, because you are always present somewhere they have not yet arrived - or be­ cause it is always present to you.

Chapter 2 1 Whether this is "the age of the age" or "the ages of the ages" So is this 'the age of the age' or 'the ages of the ages'? For just as an age of time contains all temporal things, so your eternity contains even the very ages of time. This eternity is indeed 'an age' because of its indivisi­ ble unity, but it is 'ages' because of its boundless great­ ness. And although you are so great, Lord, that all things are full of you and are in you, nonetheless you have no spatial extension, so that there is no middle or half or any other part in you.

Chapter 2 2 That he alone is what h e is and who h e is Therefore, you alone, Lord, are what you are; and you are who you are. For whatever is one thing as a whole and something else in its parts, and whatever has in it something changeable, is not entirely what it is. And whatever began to exist out of non-existence and can be thought not to exist, and returns to non-existence unless it subsists through some other being; and what­ ever has a past that no longer exists and �ture that i does not yet exist: that thing does not exist in a strict t and absolute sense. But you are what you are, since whatever you are in any way or at any time, you are wholly and always that.

And you are the one who exists in a strict and un­ qualified sense, because you have no past and no fu­ ture but only a present, and you cannot be thought not to exist at any time. And you are life and light and wisdom and happiness and eternity and many such good things; and yet you are nothing other than the one supreme good, utterly self-sufficient, needing nothing, whom all things need for their being and their well-being.

Chapter 2 3

\

That this good is equally Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and that this is the "one necessary thing," which is the complete, total, and only good This good is you, 0 God the Father; it is your Word, that is to say, your Son. For there cannot be anything other than what you are, or anything greater or less than you, in the Word by which you utter yourself. For your Word is as true as you are truthful, and therefore he is the same truth that you are and no other. And you are so simple that nothiyg can be born of you that is other than what you ant And this good is the one love that is shared by you and your So that is, the Holy Spirit, who proceeds from you both. For this love is not unequal to you or to your Son, since you love yourself and him, and he loves himself and you, as much as you and he are. \-Ioreover, the one who is equal to both you and him is not other than you and him; noth­ ing can proceed from the supreme simplicity that is other than that from which it proceeds. Thus, what­ ever each of you is individually, that is what the whole Trinity is together, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; for each of you individually is nothing other than the supremely simple unity and the supremely united sim­ plicity, which cannot be multiplied or different from itself. "\-Ioreover, one thing is necessary."39 And this is that one necessary thing, in which is all good -or rather, which is itself the complete, one, total, and unique good.

%

39. Luke 1 0:42.

Proslogion

C hapter 24

c�-.:(; �� _

.

the freedom of a body that nothing can withstand, "they will be like the angels of God";42 for "it is sown an animal body, but it will rise a spiritual body,"43 with

A conjecture as to what sort ofgood this is, and how great it is

a power that is not from nature. If it is a long and

i

Best r yourself, 0 my soul! Lift up your whole under­ sta nding, and consider as best you can what sort of good this is, and ho� gr� at it is. For if pa�icular ?oods

are delightful, consider mtently how delightful

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IS

that

good which contains the joyfulness � f all go ods - and _ not such joyfulness as we have expenenced m created things, but as different from that as the Creator differs from the creature. If created life is good, how good is the life that creates? If the salvation that has been brought about is joyful, how joyful is the salvation that brings about all salvation? If wisdom in the knowledge of created things is desirable, how desirable is the wis­ dom that created all things from nothing? In short, if there are many and great delights i n delightful things, what kind and how great a delight is there in him who made those delightful things?

healthy life, there is a healthy eternity and eternal health, for "the righteous will live for ever"44 and "the salvation of the righteous is from the Lord."45 If it is satisfaction, "they will be satisfied when the glory of God has appeared."46 If it is drunkenness, "they will be drunk with the abundance of the house"47 of God. If it is music, there the choirs of angels sing unceas­ ingly to God. If it is some pleasure, not impure but pure, God "will give them to drink from the torrent of his pleasure."48 I fit is wisdom, the very wisdom of God will show itself to them. If it is friendship, they will love God more than themselves and one another as them­ selves, and God will love them more than they do themselves· for thev will love God and themselves and

�

g

one anoth r throu h God, and God will love himself and them through himself. If it is concord, everyone will have but one will, for there will be no will among them but the will of God. If it is power, they will be

C hapter 2 5 What great goods there are for those who enjoy this good 0 those who enjoy this good: what will be theirs, and

what will not be theirs! Truly they will have everything thev want and nothing they do not want. There will be such goods of both body and soul that "neither eye has seen nor ear heard nor the human heart"40 conceived.

omnipotent through their wills, just as God is through his. For just as God can do what he wills through him­ self, so they will be able to do what they will through God; for just as they will will only what God wills, so he will will whatever thev will- and what he wills can­

t

not fail to be. If it is weal h and honor, God will set his good and faithful sen·ants over many things;49 indeed, they will be called, and will truly be, "sons of God"50 and "gods." 51 And where his Son is, there they too will

So why are you wandering through many things, you insignificant mortal, seeking the goods of your soul and of your body? Love the one good, in which are all good things, and that is enough. Desire the simple good, which is the complete good, and that is enough.

What do you love, 0 my flesh? What do you long for, 0 my soul? It is there; whatever you love, whatever you

long for, it is there.

If it is beauty that delights you, "the righteous will shine like the sun."41 If it is swiftness, or strength, or

40. l Cor. 2:9. 41. Matt. 1 3 :43.

42. :Vlatt. 22:30. 43. I Cor. 1 5 :44. 44. Ws 5 : 1 6. 4 5 . Ps. 37:39 ( 36: 39). The word for 'salvation' (salus) is the same as the word for 'health.' 46. Ps. 1 7: 1 3 ( 1 6: 1 5). 47. Ps. 36:8 ( 3 5 :9). 48. Ibid. 49. Cf. Ylatt. 25:2 1 , 23. 50. Ylatt. 5 :9. 5 1 . Ps. 82:6 ( 8 1 :6); John 1 0: 34.

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be, "heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ." 52 If it is true security, thev will be certain that thev will never in any way lose th is security - or rather, this good: just as they will be certain that they will never give it up of their own accord, and that the loving God will never take it away against their will from those who love him, and that nothing more powerful than God will sepa­ rate them from God against their will. What great joy is there where so great a good is pres­ ent! 0 human heart, 0 needv. heart heart that has known troubles, that is indeed overwh elmed by trou­ bles: how greatly would you rejoice if you abounded in all these things! Ask your inmost self whether it can even comprehend its joy at such great happiness. And yet surely if someone else whom you loved in every re­ spect as yourself had that same happiness, your joy would be doubled, for you would rejoice no less for him than for yourself. And if two or three or many more had that same happiness, you would rejoice as much for each of them as you would for yourself, ifyou loved each one as yourself. Therefore, in that perfect charity of countless happy angels and human beings, where no one will love anyone else less than he loves himself, each one will rejoice for each of the others just as he does for himself. If, then, the human heart will scarcely comprehend its own joy from so great a good, how will it be able to contain so many and such great joys? And indeed, since the more one loves someone, the more one rejoices in his good, it follows that, just as everyone in that perfect happiness will love God incomparably more than himself and all others with him, so everyone will rejoice inconceiv­ ably more in God's happiness than in his own, or in that of e\'eryone else with him. But if the\' love God so much with "their whole heart, mind, and soul'' 5 3 that their whole heart, mind, and soul are too small for the greatness of their love, they will truly rejoice so much with their whole heart, mind, and soul that their whole heart, mind, and soul will be too small for the fullness of their joy.

Chapter 26 Whether this is the "fullness ofjay" that the Lard promises My God and my Lord, my hope and the joy of my heart, tell my soul whether this is that joy of which you tell us through your Son, "Ask and you shall receive, that your joy may be full." 54 For I have found a joy that is full and more than full. Indeed, when the heart, the mind, the soul, and the whole human being are filled with that joy, there will still remain joy beyond mea­ sure. The whole of that joy will therefore not enter into those who rejoice; instead, those who rejoice will en­ ter wholly into that joy. Speak, Lord, tell your servant inwardly in his heart whether this is the joy into which your s:r:vants will enter who "enter into the joy of the Lord."" But surely the joy with which your chosen ones will rejoice is something "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the human heart." 56 Therefore, Lord, I have not yet expressed or conceived how greatly your blessed ones will rejoice. They will indeed rejoice as much as they love, and they will love as much as they know. How much will they know you then, Lord, and how much will they love you., Truly in this life "eye has not seen, nor has ear heard, nor has it entered into the human heart" how much they will love and know you in that life. 0 God, I pray that I will know and love you that I might rejoice in you. And if I cannot do so fully in this life, I pray that I might grow day by day until my joy comes to fullness. Let the knowledge of you grow in me here, and there let it be full. Let your love grow in me here, and there let it be full, so that my joy here is great in hope, and my joy there is full in reality. 0 Lord, by your Son you command us -or rather, you counsel us - to ask, and you promise that we will re­ ceive, 5� that our joy may be full. 58 Lord, I ask what you ;4_ ;; ;6. ;7. ;s. ,

;2_ Rom. 8: 1 7 . ; 3. \1att. 22: 37.

John 16:24. \1att. 2;:2 1 . 1 Cor. 2:9. \1att. 7:7. Cf John 1 6:24.

Proslogion counsel us through our "Wonderful Counselor.";9 Let me receive what you promise through your truth, that my joy may be full. 0 truthful God, I ask that I may receive, that my joy may be full. Until then, let my mind ponder on it, my tongue speak of it. Let my heart Jove it and my mouth proclaim it. Let my soul hunger for it, my flesh thirst for it, my whole being long for it, until I "enter into the joy of my Lord,"60 who is God, Three in One, "blessed for ever. Amen."61

Gaunilo's Reply on Behalf of the Fool [ I ] Someone who ei�her doubts or denies that there is

any such nature as that than which nothing greater can be thought is told that its existence is proved in the following way. First, the very person who denies or entertains doubts about this being has it in his under­ standing, since when he hears it spoken of he under­ stands what is said. Further, what he understands must exist in reality as well and not only in the understand­ ing. The argument for this claim goes like this: to exist in reality is greater than to exist only in the un­ derstanding. .\'ow if that being exists only in the un­ derstanding, then whatever also exists in reality is greater than it. Thus, that which is greater than every­ thing else61 will be less than something and not greater than everything else, which is of course a contradic­ tion. And so that which is greater than everything else, which has already been proved to exist in the under­ standing, must exist not only in the understanding but also in reality, since otherwise it could not be greater than everything else. He can perhaps reply: [2] 'The only reason this is said to exist in my under­ sta ding is t at erstand what is said. But in the �

�

;9. 60. 61 . 62.

b �q

Isa. 9:6.

Matt. E2 I . Rom. 1 :2;.

Gaunilo regularly says "maius omnibus," which lit­ erally translated is "greater than everything." English id­ iom demands "greater than everything else," and I have translated it accordingly, but I thought it important to note the discrepancy.

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same way, could I not also b e said to have i n m y un- , . derstanding any number of false things that have n o real existence a t all i n themselves, since i f someone were to sreak of them I would understand whatever he said?/Unless perhaps it is established that this be­ ing is such that it cannot be had in thought in the same way that any false or doubtful things can, and so I am not said to think of what I have heard or to have it in my thought, but to understand it and have it in my un­ derstanding, since I cannot think of it in any other way except by understanding it, that is, by comprehending in genuine knowledge the fact that it actually exists. "But first of all, if this were true, there would be no difference in this case between aving the thing in the {ffid:eistanding at one time and then later understanding that the thing existS, as there is in the case of a painting, which exists first in the mind of the painter and then in the finished work. "Furthermore, it is nearly impossible to believe that this being, once someone had heard it spoken of, can­ not be thought not to exist, in just the same way that even God can be thought not to exist. For if that were so, why bother with all this argument against someone who denies or doubts that such a nature exists? "Finally, it must be proved to me by some unas­ sailable argument that this being merely needs to be thought in order for the understanding to perceive with complete certainty that it undoubtedly exists. It is not enough to tell me that it exists in my under­ standing because I understand it when I hear about it. I still think I could likewise have any number of other doubtful or even false things in my understanding if I heard them spoken of by someone whose words I un­ derstand, and especially if! am so taken in by him that, as often happens, I believe him - as I still do not be­ lieve in that being. [ 3 ] "Accordingly, that example of the painter, who al­ ready has in his understanding the picture that he is going to paint, is not a close enough analogy to sup­ port this argument. For before that picture is painted, it is contained in the craft of the painter, and anx such thing in the craft of a craftsman is nothing but� part of his intelligenci.' For, as Saint Augustine says, 'when a carpenter is about to make a chest in reality, he first has it in his craft. The chest that exists in reality is not

h

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a living thing, but the chest that exists in his craft is a living thing, since the soul of the craftsman, in which all those things exist before they are produced, is alive.'63 0iow how can they be living things in the liv­ ing soul of the craftsman unless they are nothing other than the knowledge or intelligence of his soul itself? By contrast, except for things that are recognized as be­ longing to the nature of the mind itself, when the un­ derstanding upon hearing or thinking of something perceives that it is true, that truth is undoubtedly dis­ tinct from the understanding that grasps it. So even if it is true that there isrsomething than which a greater cannot be thougi-if, that thing, when it is heard and un­ derstood, is not the same sort of thing as a picture that exists in the understanding of the painter before it is painted. [ 4] "1bere is a further argument, which I mentioned earlier. When I hear someone speak of that which is greater than everything else that can be thought (which, it is alleged, can be nothing other than God himself), I can no more think of it or have it in my un­ derstanding in terms of anything whose genus or species I already know, than I can think of God him­ self-and indeed, for this very reason I can also think of God as not existing. For I do not know the thing it­ self, and I cannot form an idea of it on the basis of something like it, since you yourself claim that it is so great that nothing else could be like it. :'\:ow if l heard something said about a man I do not know at all, whose very existence is unknown to me, I could think of him in accordance with that very thing that a man is, on the basis of that knowledge of genus or species by which I know what a man is or what men are. :\onetheless, it could happen that the one who spoke of this man was lying, and so the man whom I thought of would not exist. But I would still be thinking of him on the basis of a real thing: not what that particular man would be, but what any given man is. "But when I hear someone speak of'God' or 'some­ thing greater than everything else,' I cannot have it in my thought or understanding in the same way as this false thing. I was able to think of the false thing on the basis of some real thing that I actually knew. But in the

63. In Iohannem, tractate 1 , n. 1 7.

case of God, I can think of him only on the basis of the word; and one can seldom or never think of any true thing solely on the basis of a word. For in thinking of something solely on the basis of a word, one does not think so much of the word itself (which is at least a real thing: the sound of letters or syllables) as of the signi­ fication of the word that is heard. And in the present case, one does not do this as someone who knows what is customarily signified by the word and thinks of it on the basis of a thing that is real at least in thought. In­ stead, one thinks of it as someone who does not know the meaning of the word, who thinks only of the im­ pression made on his mind by hearing the word and tries to imagine its signification. It would be surprising if one ever managed to reach the truth about some­ thing in this way. Therefore, when I hear and under­ stand someone saying that there exists something greater than everything else that can be thought, it is in this way, and this way only, that it is present in my understanding. So much, then, for the claim that that supreme nature already exists in my understanding. [ 5] "Then I am offered the further argument that this thing necessarily exists in reality, since if it did not, everything that exists in reality would be greater than it. And so this thing, which of course has been proved to exist in the understanding, would not be greater than evel}thing else. To that argument I reply that if we are to say that something exists in the understanding that cannot even be thought on the basis of the true nature of anjthing whatever, then I shall not deny that even this thing exists in my understanding. But since there is no way to derive from this the conclusion that this thing also exists in reality, there is simply no reason for me to concede to him that this thing exists in reality until it is proved to me by some unassailable argument. "And when he says that this thing exists because otherwise that which is greater than everything else would not be greater than evel)thing else, he does not fully realize whom he is addressing. For I do not yet ad­ mit - indeed, I actually deny, or at least doubt- that this being is greater than any real thing. :\or do I con­ cede that it exists at all , except in the sense that some­ thing exists ( if you want to call it 'existence') when my mind tries to imagine some completely unknown thing solely on the basis of a word that it has heard. How, then, is the fact that this greater being has been proved

Proslogion to be greater than

everything else supposed to show me that it subsists in actual fact? For I continue to deny, or at least doubt, that this has been proved, so that I do not admit that this greater being exists in my understand­ ing or thought even in the way that many doubtful and uncertain things exist there. First I must become cer­ tain that this greater being truly exists somewhere, and only then will the fact that it is greater than everything else show clearly that it also subsists in itself. [6] "For example, there are those who say that some­ where in the ocean is an island, which, because of the difficulty-or rather, impossibility-of finding what does not exist, some call 'the Lost Island.' This island (so the story goes) is more plentifully endowed than even the Isles of the Blessed with an indescribable abundance of all sorts of riches and delights. And be­ cause it has neither owner nor inhabitant, it is every­ where superior in its abundant riches to all the other lands that human beings inhabit. �suppose someone tells me all this. The story is easily told and involves no difficulty, and so I under­ stand it. But if this person went on to draw a conclu­ sion and say 'You cannot any longer doubt that this island, more excellent than all others on earth, truly exists somewhere in reality. For you do not doubt that this island exists in your understanding, and since it is more excellent to exist not merely in the understand­ ing, but also in reality, this island must also exist in re­ ality. For if it did not, any land that exists in reality would be greater than it. And so this more excellent thing that you have understood would not in fact be more excellent.' - I f, I say, he should try to convince me by this argument that I should no longer doubt whether the island truly exists, either I would think he was joking, or I would not know whom I ought to think more foolish: myself, if I grant him his conclusion, or him, if he thinks he has established the existence of that island with any degree of certainty, without first showing that its excellence exists in my understanding as a thing that truly and undoubtedly exists and not in any way like something false or uncertain." [7] In this way the fool might meet the objections brought against him up to this point. The next asser­ tion is that this greater being is such that even in thought it cannot fail to exist, and that in turn rests en­ tirely on the claim that otherwise this being would not

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be greater than everything else. To this argument he can make the very same response, and say, "When did I ever say that any such thing as that 'greater than everything else' exists in actual fact, so that on that ba­ sis I am supposed to accept the claim that it exists to such a degree that it cannot even be thought not to ex­ ist? Therefore, you must first prove by some absolutely incontestable argument that there exists some supe­ rior nature, that is, one that is greater and better than all others that exist, so that from this we can also prove all of the qualities that that which is greater and better than all other things must necessarily possess." So in­ stead of saying that this supreme thing cannot be thought not to exist, perhaps it would be better to say that it cannot be understood not to exist, or even to be capable of not existing. For in the strict sense of the word, false things cannot be understood, even though they can of course be thought in the same way that the fool thought that God does not exist. Furthermore, I know with absolute certainty that I myself exist, but nonetheless I also know that I can fail to exist. But I understand beyond all doubt that the supreme being that exists, namely, God, both exists and cannot fail to exist. :\ow I do not know whether I can think I do not exist even while I know with ab­ solute certainty that I do exist. But if I can, why can I not do the same for anything else that I know with the same certainty? And if I cannot, it is not God alone who cannot be thought not to exist. [8] The rest of this book is argued so truly, so lucidly and magnificently, full of so much that is useful, and fragrant with the aroma of devout and holy feeling, that it should bv no means be belittled on account of the claims made at the beginning, which are indeed accurately understood, but less compellingly argued. Rather, those claims should be demonstrated more solidly, and then the whole book can be accorded great honor and praise.

Anselm's Reply to Gaunilo Since the one who takes me to task is not that fool against whom I was speaking in my book, but a Chris­ tian who is no fool, arguing on behalf of the fool, it will be enough for me to reply to the Christian.

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[ l ] You say-whoever you are who say that the fool

be thought, but does not in fact exist, could (if it did

could say these things - that something than which a

exist) fail to exist either in reality or in the under­

greater cannot be thought is in the understanding no

standing. So if that than which a greater cannot be

differently from that which cannot even be thought

thought can be thought at all, it cannot fail to exist.

according to the true nature of anything at all. You also

But let us assume instead that it does not exist, al­

say that it does not follow (as I say it does) that that than

though it can be thought. :\ow something that can be

which a greater cannot be thought exists in reality as well simply because it exists in the understanding, any

that than which a greater cannot be thought. And so,

thought but does not exist, would not, if it existed, be

more than i t follows that the Lost Island most certainly

if it existed, that than which a greater cannot be

exists simply because someone who hears it described

thought would not be that than which a greater can­

in words has no doubt that it exists in his understand­

not be thought, which is utterly absurd. Therefore, if

ing. I, however, say this: if that than which a greater

that than which a greater cannot be thought can be

cannot be thought is neither understood nor thought,

thought at all, it is false that it does not exist- and

and exists neither in the understanding nor in thought,

much more so if it can be understood and can exist in

then either God is not that than which a greater

the understanding.

cannot be thought, or else he is neither understood

I shall say something more. If something does not

nor thought, and exists neither in the understanding

exist everywhere and always, even if perhaps it does

nor in thought. I appeal to your own faith and con­

exist somewhere and sometimes, it can undoubtedly

science as the most compelling argument that this is

be thought not to exist anywhere or at any time, just

false. Therefore, that than which a greater cannot be

as it does not exist in this particular place or at this

thought is indeed understood and thought, and exists

particular time. For something that did not exist yes­

in the understanding and in thought. So either the

terday but does exist today can be conceived of as

premises by which you attempt to prove the contrary

never existing in just the same way that it is under­

are false, or else what you think follows from them

stood as not existing yesterday. And something that

does not in fact follow.

does not exist here but does exist elsewhere can be

You think that from the fact that something than

thought not to exist anywhere in just the same way

which a greater cannot be thought is understood, it

that it does not exist here. Similarly, when some parts

does not follow that it exists in the understanding; nor

of a thing do not exist in the same place or at the same

does it follow that if it exists in the understanding, it

time as other parts of that thing, all its parts - and

therefore exists in reality. But I say with certainty that if it can be so much as thought to exist, it must neces­

exist anyv.·here or at any time. Even if we say that time

sarily exist. For that than which a greater cannot be

always exists and that the universe is eve!'}where, nev­

thought cannot be thought of as beginning to exist. By contrast, whatever can be thought to exist but does not in fact exist, can be thought of as beginning to exist. Therefore, it is not the case that that than which a greater cannot be thought can be thought to exist, but does not in fact exist. If, therefore, it can be thought to exist, it does necessarily exist. Furthermore, if it can be thought

at all, it neces­

sarily exists. For no one who denies or doubts that something than which a greater cannot be thought exists, denies or doubts that if it did exist, it would be unable to fail to exist either in reality or in the under­ standing, since otherwise it would not be that than which a greater cannot be thought. But whatever can

therefore the thing as a whol e - can be thought not to

ertheless, the whole of time docs not always exist, and the whole of the universe is not everywhere. And just as each individual part of time does not exist when the others do, so each can be thought never to exist. And just as each individual part of the universe does not exist where the others do, so each can be thought to exist nowhere. :\1oreover, whatever is composed of parts can, at least in thought, be divided and fail to ex­ ist. Therefore, whatever does not exist as a whole in all places and at all times, even if it does exist, can be thought not to exist. But that than which a greater cannot be thought, if it exists, cannot be thought not to exist. For otherwise, even if it exists, it is not that than which a greater cannot be thought- which is ab-

Proslogion surd. Therefore, there is no time and no place i n which it does n o t exist a s a whole; it exists a s a whole always and everywhere. Do you think the being about whom these things are understood can in any way be thought or under­ stood, or can exist in thought or in the understanding? If it cannot, these claims about it cannot be under­ stood either. Perhaps you will say that it is not under­ stood and does not exist in the understanding because it is not fully understood. But then you would have to say that someone who cannot gaze directly upon the purest light of the sun does not see the light of day, which is nothing other than the light of the sun. Surely that than which a greater cannot be thought is under­ stood, and exists i n the understanding, at least to the extent that these things about it are understood. [Z] And so I said in the argument that you criticize, that when the fool hears someone utter the words "that than which a greater cannot be thought," he under­ stands what he hears. Someone who does not under­ stand it (if it is spoken i n a language he knows) is rather feeble-minded, if indeed he has a mind at all. Then I said that if it is understood, it exists in the understanding. Or does that which has been shown to exist necessarily in actual fact not exist i n any under­ standing? But you will say that even if it exists in the understanding, it still does not follow that it is under­ stood. �otice, however, that if it is understood, it does follow that it exists in the understanding. For when something is thought, it is thought by means of think­ ing; and what is thought by means of thinking exists in thinking just as it is thought. And in the same way, when something is understood, it is understood by means of the understanding; and what is understood by means of the understanding exists in the under­ standing, just as it is understood. What could be clearer than that? After that I said that if it exists only in the under­ standing, it can be thought to exist in reality as well, which is greater. Therefore, if it exists only in the un­ derstanding, the very same thing is both that than which a greater cannot be thought and that than which a greater can be thought. :\ow I ask you, what could be more logical? For if it exists only in the un­ derstanding, can it not be thought to exist in reality as well? And if it can, does not the one who thinks it, ·

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think something greater than that thing is if it exists only in the understanding? So if that than which a greater cannot be thought exists only in the under­ standing, it is that than which a greater can be thought: what more logical conclusion could there be? But of course that than which a greater cannot be thought is not the same in anyone's understanding as that than which a greater can be thought. Does it not follow, therefore, that if that than which a greater cannot be thought exists in any understanding at all, it does not exist only in the understanding? For if it exists only i n the understanding, i t i s that than which a greater can be thought, which is absurd. [ 3 ] But, you say, this is just the same as if someone were to claim that it cannot be doubted that a certain island in the ocean, surpassing all other lands in its fer­ tility (which, from the difficulty-or rather, impossi­ bility - of finding what does not exist, is called "the Lost Island"), truly exists in reality, because someone can easily understand it when it is described to him i n words. I say quite confidently that if anyone c a n find for me something existing either in reality or only in thought to which he can apply this inference in my ar­ gument, besides that than which a greater cannot be thought, I will find and give to him that Lost Island, never to be lost again. In fact, however, it has already become quite clear that that than which a greater can­ not be thought cannot be thought not to exist, since its existence is a matter of such certain truth. For other­ wise it would not exist at all. Finally, if someone says that he thinks it does not exist, I say that when he thinks this, either he is think­ ing something than which a greater cannot be thought, or he is not. If he is not, then he is not think­ ing that it does not exist, since he is not thinking it at all. But if he is, he is surely thinking something that cannot be thought not to exist. For if it could be thought not to exist, it could be thought to have a be­ ginning and an end, which is impossible. Therefore, someone who is thinking it, is thinking something that cannot be thought not to exist. And of course someone who is thinking this does not think that that very thing does not exist. Otherwise he would be thinking some­ thing that cannot be thought. Therefore, that than which a greater cannot be thought cannot be thought not to exist.

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[4] When I say that this supreme being cannot be thought not to exist, you reply that it would perhaps be better to say that it cannot be understood not to exist,

or even to be capable of not existing. But in fact it was more correct to say that it cannot be thought not to ex­ ist. For if I had said that this thing cannot be under­ stood not to exist, you (who say that in the strict sense of the word false things cannot be understood) might well object that nothing that exists can be understood not to exist, since, after all, it is false that something that exists does not exist. Consequently, it is not God alone who cannot be understood not to exist. But if any of those things that most certainly exist can be un­ derstood not to exist, then other things that are certain can likewise be understood not to exist. If, however, we say 'thought' [rather than 'understood'], this ob­ jection will have no force if it is examined properly. For even if nothing that actually exists can be under­ stood not to exist, everything can be thought not to ex­ ist, except for that which exists supremely. Indeed, all and only those things that have a beginning or end, or are made up of parts, as well as whatever does not ex­ ist always and everywhere as a whole (as I discussed earlier), can be thought not to exist. The only thing that cannot be thought not to exist is that which has neither beginning nor end, and is not made up of parts, and which no thought discerns except as wholly present always and evel}where. So you should realize that you can indeed think of yourself as not existing even while you know with ab­ solute certainty that you exist. I am amazed that you said you did not know this. For we think of many things as not existing that we know exist, and we think of many things as existing that we know do not exist­ not judging, but imagining, that things are as we are thinking of them. And so we can in fact think of some­ thing as not existing even while we know that it exists, since we can think the one thing and know the other at the very same time. And yet we cannot think of something as not existing even while we know that it exists, since we cannot think of it as existing and not existing at the same time. So if someone distinguishes the two senses of this statement in this way, he will un­ derstand that in one sense nothing can be thought of as not existing when we know that it exists, and in an­ other sense anything besides that than which a greater

cannot be thought can be thought not to exist, even when we know that it exists. Thus God alone cannot be thought not to exist, but nonetheless it is also true that there are many things that cannot be thought not to exist while they actually exist. I think, however, that I adequately explained in my book the sense in which God is thought not to exist.64 [5] :\ow as for the other objections you raise against me on behalf of the fool, anyone with much sense at all can easily see through them, so I had judged it best not to bother proving this. But since I hear that some readers think they have some force against me, I will deal with them briefly. First, you repeatedly say that I argue that that which is greater than everything else exists in the understanding; and that if it exists in the understanding, it also exists in reality, for otherwise that which is greater than everything else would not be greater than everything else. �owhere in anything I said can such an argument be found. For "that which is greater than everything else" and "that than which a greater cannot be thought" do not have the same force in proving that the thing spoken of exists in real­ ity. For if someone says that that than which a greater cannot be thought is not something existing in reality, or is capable of not existing, or can be thought not to exist, he is easily refuted. For whatever does not exist is capable of not existing, and whatever is capable of not existing can be thought not to exist. �ow whatever can be thought not to exist, if it does exist, is not that than which a greater cannot be thought. And if it does not exist, it would not be that than which a greater can­ not be thought even if it were to exist. But it makes no sense to say that that than which a greater cannot be thought, if it exists, is not that than which a greater cannot be thought, and that if it [does not exist but] were to exist, it would not be that than which a greater cannot be thought. It is therefore evident that it exists, that it is not capable of not existing, and that it cannot be thought not to exist. For otherwise, if it exists, it is not the thing spoken of; and if it [does not exist but] were to exist, it would not be the thing spoken of. This does not seem to be so easily proved with re­ gard to what is said to be greater than everything else.

64. See Ch. 4 of the Proslogion.

Proslogion For it is not as evident that something that can be thought not to exist is not that which is greater than everything else that exists, as it is that such a thing is not that than which a greater cannot be thought. Nor is it indubitable that i f there is something greater than everything else, it is the same as that than which a greater cannot be thought, or that if such a thing were to exist, there would not exist another thing just like it.

But these things are certainly true of what is called "that than which a greater cannot be thought." For wh at if someone were to say that something exists that is greater than everything else that exists, and yet that this very thing can be thought not to exist, and that something greater than it can be thought, although

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firm the existence of the Lost Island solely because the island would be understood if someone described it. [ 6] But you also raise the objection that all sorts o ffalse or doubtful things can be understood, and exist in the understanding, in the very same way as the being I was talking about. I wonder what force you thought this objection could have against me. I was simply trying to prove something that was still in doubt, and for that it was enough for me to show that this being is under­

in some way or other, since on that basis the argument would go on to stood, and exists in the understanding,

determine whether it exists only in the understanding, like a false thing, or also in reality, like a real thing. For if false and doubtful things are understood, and exist

that greater thing does not actually exist? Can it be j ust

in the understanding, in the sense that one who hears

as easily inferred in this case that it is not greater than

them spoken of understands what the speaker means,

everything else that exists, as it was perfectly certain in

there is no reason that the being I was discussing could

the previous case that it was not that than which a

not be understood or exist in the understanding.

greater cannot be thought? In the second case we

But how can these two claims of yours be consis­

would need another premise, besides the mere fact

tent: first, that if someone spoke of false things, you

that this being is said to be "greater than everything

would understand whatever he said; and second, that

else," whereas in the first case there was no need for anything more than the expression "that than which a greater cannot be thought." Therefore, since "that

if what you heard is not had in thought in the same way that false things are, you would not say that you think it and have it in your thought, but rather that you un­

than which a greater cannot be thought" proves things

derstand it and have it in your understanding, since

about itself and through itself that cannot be proved i n

you cannot think this thing without understanding it,

the same way about what i s said to b e "greater than everything else," you have unjustly criticized me for

that is, comprehending in genuine knowledge that it exists in reality? How,

saying things I did not say, when they differ greatly

that false things are understood, and that to understand

from what I actually said. If, however, this can be proved through some fur­

I ask, can these be consistent:

is to comprehend in genuine knowledge that some­ thing exists? You should realize that this objection has

ther argument, you should not have criticized me for

no force against me. If false things can indeed be un­

saying something that can be proved. And that it can in fact be proved should be easily perceived by anyone

derstood in some sense, and your definition of under­ standing applies not to all but only to some cases of

who knows that it can be proved for that than which a

understanding, then I should not have been criticized

greater cannot be thought. For that than which a

for saying that that than which a greater cannot be

greater cannot be thought cannot be understood as

thought is understood and exists in the understanding

anything other than the one thing that is greater than

even before it was certain that it exists in reality.

everything else. Therefore, just as that than which a

[7] .\"ext, you say that it is nearly impossible to believe

greater cannot be thought is understood and exists in

that when this thing has been spoken of and heard, it

the understanding, and therefore is affirmed to exist in

cannot be thought not to exist in the way that even

actual fact, even so that which is said to be greater than everything else is with necessity inferred to be under­

acquired even a meager knowledge of disputation and

stood, to exist in the understanding, and consequently to exist in reality. So you see how right you were to

compare me to that stupid man who was willing to af-

God can be thought not to exist. l .et those who have argument reply on my behalf. Is it rational for some­ one to deny [the existence on what he understands, simply because it is said to be the same as something

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[whose existence] he denies because he does not un­ derstand it? Or if [its existence] is sometimes denied because it is only partly understood, and it is the same as something that is not understood at all, are not things in doubt more easily proved to be true of what exists in some understanding than of what exists in no understanding? Therefore, it is impossible to believe that someone would deny [the existence on that than which a greater cannot be thought, which he under­ stands to some extent when he hears of it, simply because he denies [the existence on God, whose meaning he is not thinking of in any way. Or, if he also denies [the existence on that than which a greater can­ not be thought, because he does not fully understand it, is it not easier to prove [the existence on what is un­ derstood to some extent than to prove what is not un­ derstood at all? So it was not irrational for me to prove against the fool that God exists by making use of the expression "that than which a greater cannot be thought," since he would understand that expression to some extent, whereas he might not understand 'God' at all. [8] You go to some trouble to show that that than which a greater cannot be thought is not the same sort of thing as a picture, not yet painted, in the under­ standing of the painter, but your argument is not to the point. I did not bring up the picture that is thought out beforehand in order to claim that it was the same sort of thing as the being I was discussing, but merely so I could show that something exists in the understand­ ing that would not be understood to exist [in reality ] . Again, you say that when you hear "that than which a greater cannot be thought," you cannot think it in accordance with some thing that you know by genus or species, or have it in your understanding, since you do not know the thing itself and cannot form an idea of it on the basis of something similar. But that is clearly wrong. For since every lesser good, insofar as it is good, is similar to a greater good, it is clear to every reasonable mind that by raising our thoughts from lesser goods to greater goods, we can certainly form an idea ofthat than which a greater cannot be thought on the basis of those things than which a greater can be thought. Who, for example, is unable to think (even if he does not believe that what he thinks exists in real­ ity) that if something that has a beginning and end is

good, then something that has a beginning but never ceases to exist is much better? And that just as the lat­ ter is better than the former, so something that has nei­ ther beginning nor end is better still, even if it is always moving from the past through the present into the fu­ ture? And that something that in no way needs or is compelled to change or move is far better even than that, v.·hether any such thing exists in reality or not? Can such a thing not be thought? Can anything greater than this be thought? Or rather, is not this an example of forming an idea of that than which a greater cannot be thought on the basis of those things than which a greater can be thought? So there is in fact a way to form an idea of that than which a greater can­ not be thought. And so in this way it is easy to refute a fool who does not accept the sacred authority, if he de­ nies that one can form an idea of that than which a greater cannot be thought on the basis of other things. But if an orthodox Christian were to deny this, he should recall that "since the creation of the world the invisible things of God -his everlasting power and di­ vinity-have been clearly seen through the things that have been made.''65 [9] But even if it were true that that than which a greater cannot be thought cannot be thought or un­ derstood, it would not be false that [the expression] "that than which a greater cannot be thought" can be thought and understood. For just as one can use the word 'ineffable,' even though the thing that is said to be ineffable cannot be spoken of; and just as 'unthink­ able' can be thought, even though the thing to which the word 'unthinkable' applies cannot be thought; in the same way, when someone says "that than which nothing greater can be thought," that which is heard can undoubtedly be thought and understood, even though the thing itself than which a greater cannot be thought cannot be thought or understood. For even if someone is foolish enough to say that something than which a greater cannot be thought does not exist, he will surely not be shameless enough to say that he cannot understand or think what he is saying. Or, if such a person does turn up, not only should his words be repudiated, but he himself should

65. Rom. 1 :20.

Proslogion be ridiculed. So anyone who denies the existence of something than which a greater cannot be thought surely understands and thinks the denial that he is making. :\ow he cannot understand or think this de­ nial without its parts. And one part of it is "that than which a greater cannot be thought." Therefore, who­ ever denies this, understands and thinks that than which a greater cannot be thought. �ow it is quite clear that something that cannot fail to exist can be thought and understood in the same way. And one who thinks this is thinking something greater than is one who thinks something that can fail to exist. There­ fore, if, while he is thinking that than which a greater cannot be thought, he thinks that it can fail to exist, he is not thinking that than which a greater cannot be thought. But it is not possible for the same thing at the same time both to be thought and not to be thought. Therefore, someone who thinks that than which a greater cannot be thought does not think that it can, but rather that it cannot fail to exist. For this reason the thing that he is thinking exists necessarily, since what­ ever can fail to exist is not what he is thinking. [ 1 0] I believe I have now shown that my proof in the

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foregoing book that that than which a greater cannot be thought exists in reality was no weak argument, but a quite conclusive one, one that is not weakened by the force of any objection. For the signification of this ex­ pression has such great force that the thing it expresses is, from the mere fact that it is understood or thought, necessarily proved both to exist in reality and to be what­ ever we ought to believe about the divine nature. :'\ow we believe about the divine nature everything that can be thought, absolutely speaking, better for something to be than not to be. For example, it is better to be eternal than not eternal, good than not good, and indeed good­ ness itself rather than not goodness itself. That than which something greater cannot be thought cannot fail to be anything of this sort. So one must believe that that than which a greater cannot be thought is whatever we ought to believe about the divine nature. I am grateful for your kindness both in your criti­ cisms and in your praise of my book. For since you lav­ ished such great praise on the things you found worthy of acceptance, it is quite clear that you criticized the things that seemed weak to you not from ill will but in a friendly spirit.

Peter Abelard, 1 079- 1 1 42

From the revival of the schools until the assimilation of Aristotle's non-logical works, the medieval curricu­ lum consisted of the trivium and the quadrivium. The trivium included grammar, dialectic, and rhetoric; the quadrivium, arithmetic, music, geometry, and astron­ omy. Emphasis was placed on the trivium, which di­ alectic came more and more to dominate. But early medieval dialectic was very much affected by its asso­ ciation with the other arts of speech and was known as the scientia sennocinalis or the ars disserendi: the science of disputation or the art of discussion or dis­ course. This period has been aptly termed "The Boethian Era," in that Boethius' translations and logi­ cal treatises were the leading manuals of instruction and also because his effort to apply dialectic to reli­ gious concepts was intensively cultivated. In such a context it is understandable that philosophical prob­ lems attendant upon dialectic should have theological repercussions and take on added significance from this. The most prominent such problem concerned the ontological status of universals: whether genera and species exist only in the mind or also in reality, and if the latter, whether they exist in individual things or also apart from them. Realism, the doctrine that uni­ versals are not merely mental, fitted into the �eopla­ tonism of both Augustine and Pseudo-Dionysius, and had been employed in interpreting the dogmas of the Holy Trinity, transubstantiation, and even original sin. Thus Anselm of Canterbury said of the nominalist Roscelin that he who does not understand how several individual men are specifically one man can hardly understand how several divine Persons are one God. The outstanding figure of this era of dialectic and theology, and indeed the one who is credited with giv-

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ing "theology" its modern sense, is Peter Abelard. He was called "the Socrates of Gaul," and, like Socrates, his greatest contribution is found less in any doctrine than in the rigor of his method and in his raising the standards of philosophy. To judge from recent esti­ mates of his work he was a gifted logician. Abelard's work is ancestral to Peter Lombard's Four Books ofSen­ tences, the point of departure for later systematic the­ ology. It was not very clear just what Abelard was trying to accomplish with such exercises as a dialectical analysis of the types of similarity and difference pres­ ent in the Holy Trinity - or perhaps only in a "simili­ tude" of the Trinity. Sometimes he denounced the pseudo-dialecticians who would accept nothing not comprehensible by their little reasons. But his more characteristic pronouncement was that man is created in the image of the divine Logos by his reason, and he went so far as to credit the ancient philosophers with awareness of the Trinity. This kind of thing provoked Bernard of Clairvaux to say that while Abelard sweated to prove Plato a Christian, he only proved himself a heretic. But Abelard himself wrote to Heloise that he did not want to be a philosopher to contradict Paul, nor an Aristotle to be cut off from Christ. His life was spectacular, and ended in a sort of So­ cratic martyrdom. He was born in 1 079 at Le PJllet in Brittany and gave up the life of a knight to "follow the tourney-grounds of dialectic." About 1 094 he heard the nominalist Roscelin and later he heard the realist William of Champeaux. By about 1 1 0 5 he had his own school; but about 1 1 1 3 he turned to theology, studying at Laon. Abelard always attacked and aban­ doned his teachers, and he soon returned to Paris, where he apparently directed the cathedral school and

Peter Abelard, 1 079- 1 1 42 became famous. Soon there unfolded the tragic ro­ mance with Heloise; by 1 1 1 8 Heloise had been sent to a convent, their son had been sent to Abelard's sister, and Abelard had become a monk at the royal abbey of St. Denys. Before 1 1 20 he had produced several short logical gl osses and the more elaborate glosses kno-wn from the opening words as Logica 'ingredientibus. ' About 1 1 20 h e wrote Treatise o n the Divine Unity and Trinity (Tractatus de unitate et trinitate divina), which was promptly condemned at Soissons in 1 1 2 1 . After confinement he was returned to St. Denys, where he made the discovery that the patron saint was not the Areopagite and had to flee the patriotic wrath of the monks. He tried rural solitude, but students sought him out and he entered into a fruitful period of teach­ ing and writing. During the next few years he pro­ duced Yes and :-.io (Sic et non), Christian Theology (Theologia christiana), part of Introduction to Theology (lntroductio ad theologiam), and a logical work known as Logica 'nostrorum petitioni sociorum.' About 1 1 26 he undertook the role of reforming abbot at a wild Bre­ ton monastery, a role which he gave up by about 1 1 32 , after an attempt o n h i s life. This is a s far a s h i s History ofMy Adversities (Historia calamitatum mearum) car­ ries us; but we know that by 1 1 36 he was teaching again at Paris. In this period he must have written the remainder of his Introduction and the ethical work Know Thyself (Sci to teipsum). His gift for ;:naking ene­ mies never rested, and by 1 1 40 he had found the most dangerous of all, Bernard of Clairvaux. They met at

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Sens i n what Abelard thought was t o b e a debate and Bernard had turned into a trial. Abelard appealed to Rome, but the great Cistercian's influence was there before him, and he was condemned. He retired to the monastery of Cluny and was sent to a daughter house for his health. During these last years he pro­ duced a revised edition of Dialectica (Dialectic) and the unfinished Dialogue between a Philosopher, a

few, and a Christian (Dialogus inter philosophum, fudaeum et Christianum). In the course of his career

he also produced several devotional and exegetical works, as well as his part of the celebrated corre­ spondence with Heloise. At his death in 1 142, the Abbot of Cluny struck the right note by calling him, not only the Socrates of Gaul, but also "a genius ver­ satile, subtle, and sharp." In the following selections, Abelard's treatment of universals in the "Glosses on Porphyry" from Logica 'ingredientibus' comes first. If nominalism is taken loosely as anti-realism, Abelard is clearly a nominalist. But if finer lines are drawn and nominalism is taken to be the doctrine that universals are merely names, then Abelard should rather be considered a concep­ tualist, for his general position is that a universal must be capable of predication and no thing, whether a uni­ versal substance or a particular name-sound, can be predicated. 'Ibese selections on universals are fol­ lowed by excerpts from Know Thyself, where he argues that consent alone, and neither desire nor the act per­ formed, constitutes sin.

1 6 . Glosses on Porphyry [ I ] "For the present about genera." He settles what those higher questions are, although he does not solve them. And the cause is given for both facts: the fact that he passes over inquiring into them, and the fact that nevertheless he does make mention of them. [ 2 ] He does not discuss them, because the un­ skilled reader will not be strong enough to inquire into them and grasp them. But he does mention them in order not to make the reader overlook them. For if he had kept silent about them altogether the reader, thinking there was absolutely nothing more to be asked about them, would entirely disregard their investigation. [ 3 ] There are three questions, as Boethius says "mysterious" and "very useful" ones, attempted by not a few philosophers, but solved by few of them. [ 4] The first is this: "Do genera and species subsist, or are they posited only in," etc.? As if he said: "Do they have true being, or do they reside in opinion only?" [ 5] The second is: "If it is granted that they truly are, are they corporeal essences or incorporeal?" (6] The third: "Are they separated from sensibles or posited in sensibles?" For there are two species of in­ corporeals. Some of them, such as God and the soul, can endure in their incorporeality outside sensibles. But others, such as a line without any subject body, are entirely unable to be outside the sensibles they are in. [7] He passes over these questions, saying "As for genera and species, I shall decline for the present to say (a) whether they subsist," etc., "or (b) whether, if they subsist, they are corporeal or incorporeal, and whether (c)," when they are called "incorporeal," they are separated "from sensibles," etc., [or posited in sen­ sibles] "and agree with them." (8] This can be taken in different senses. For we can take it as if it says: "About genera and species I

From Five Texts on the .\1ediaeval Problem of Universals, tr. Paul Vincent Spade (Indianapolis: Hackett Publish­ ing Company, 1994). Reprinted by permission of the publisher. 1 84

shall decline to say what the answers are to the three questions given above, and about certain other ques­ tions that agree with them" - that is, with these three questions. (9] For other, similarly difficult questions too can be raised about these same genera and species. For in­ stance, the question about the common cause of the impositions of universal names. That question is: "Di­ verse things agree according to what?" Or also the question about the understanding of universal names, by which understanding no thing appears to be con­ ceived. :\either does it appear that any thing is dealt with by a universal word. There are many other diffi­ cult questions as well. ( 1 0] Again [see 8], we can analyze the words "and agree with them" in such a way that we add a fourth question: Do genera and species, as long as they are genera and species, necessarily have some thing sub­ ject to them by nomination? Or alternatively, even if the things named are destroyed, can the universal con­ sist even then of the understanding's signification alone? For example, the name 'rose' when there are no roses to which it is common. [ 1 1 ] We shall argue these questions more thor­ oughly below. But first let us follow the letter of Por­ phyry's Prologue. :\ote that when he says "for the present" - that is, in the present treatise - he hints in a way that the reader may expect these questions to be answered elsewhere. ( 1 2] "For that is a most exalted matter." He sets out the cause why he refrains from these questions here: namely, because treating of them is "a most exalted matter" for the reader who cannot reach that far. He immediately establishes [that this is his meaning, when he says] "and requires a longer investigation." For although the author is able to solve them, the reader is not able to inquire about these questions. ["It requires,"] I say, "a longer investigation" than yours, (the reader's] , is. [ 1 3] "Rather what." After showing us what he is not going to talk about, he tells us what he does set out (in the remainder of the lsagoge] : what "the ancients"-

Glosses on Porphyry not in age but in judgment1 - "discussed about these ma tters" - namely, genera and species- "and about the" other three questions just "proposed, in a proba­ ble way" - that is, with l ikelihood. That is to say, the points on which everyone concurred and about which there was no disagreement. For in answering the ques­ tions above, some people thought one way and others another. Thus Boethius mentions that Aristotle said genera and species subsist only in sensibles but are un­ derstood outside sensibles, while Plato said they not only are understood outside sensibles but also exist there. "And of these ancients," I say, and "the Peri­ patetics most of all," that is to say, one party among these ancients. (He is calling "Peripatetics" the di­ alecticians -that is, all those who argue.) [ 14] Note too that the features appropriate to pm­ logues can be found in this one. For Boethius, in his Commentary on Cicero's 'Topics" [ 22 ] , says: "Every prologue intended to prepare the listener, as is said in rhetorical writings, either tries to win his good will, or prepares his attention, or produces in him an aptitude for being taught. " It is appropriate for one of these three, or several of them together, to be in every pro­ logue. Two of them can be noted in this one: first, the aptitude for being taught, where he gives a foretaste of his subject matter, which is the five predicables; and second, attention, where he recommends his treatise about what the ancients established for teaching these five predicables on the grounds of its fourfold utility.2 Alternatively, attention can be found where he prom­ ises to proceed in an introductory manner. There is no need for good will here, where there is no knowledge that will be found hateful to whoever needs Porphyry's treatment of it.'

I. This might mean either: (a) those who are not neces­ sarily old in years, but who nevertheless have a mature judgment; or (b) the "ancients," not necessarily those who actually lived in ancient times, but anyone who shares their views (= j udgments) . 2. Porphyry says the lsagoge is needed (a) in order to teach about Aristotle's Categories, and is also useful (b) for giving definitions, and (c) for matters pertai ni ng to di­ vision and (d) for matters pertaining to demonstration. 3. The sentence is convoluted, but the point is clear.

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[ I 5] But now, as we promised, let us return to the questions posed above and carefully examine and an­ swer them. Because it is plain that genera and species are universals, and that in the discussion of them Por­ phyry touches on the nature of all universals in gen­ eral, let us here distinguish the characteristics of all universals together from the characteristics of singu­ lars, and let us examine whether these characteristics belong only to words or also to things. [ 1 6 ] Aristotle defines the universal in On Interpre­ tation [7, 1 7a39-40] as "what is naturally apt to be predicated of several." But Porphyry defines the sin­ gular - that is, the individual - as "what is predicated of one only." [ 1 7 ] Authority seems to attribute this both to things and to words. Aristotle himself attributes it to things, where just before the definition of a universal [ 1 6] , he states [On Interpretation 7, 1 7a 3 8--40 ] : "i\'ow because, among things, some are universals and others singu­ lars - now I call 'universal' what is naturally apt to be predicated of several, but I call 'singular' what is not," etc. [ 1 8] Porphyry too, when he says a species is made up of genus and difference, ascribes these to the na­ ture of things. [ I 9] From these passages it is plain that things themselves are contained under the name 'universal.' [ZO] But names are also called "universals." Thus Aristotle says [Categories 5, 3b I 9-Z I ], "Genus deter­ mines a quality with respect to a substance. For it signi­ fies what kind of a thing the substance is." And Boethius in his book On Division [885C] says, "It is very useful to know that a genus is in a way one likeness of many species, a likeness that shows the substantial agreement of all of them." .\"ow "signifying" or "showing" belongs to words, but "being signified" belongs to things. [Z l ] And again he says [ibid. 886B ] , "The word 'name' is predicated of several names and in a way is a species containing individuals under it." It is not properly called a species, since it is not a substantial but an accidental word. But there is no doubt it is a

This isn't a court of law. The reader's good will can be as­ sumed, or else he wouldn't be reading the lsagoge in the first place.

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Peter Abelard, 1 079-1 1 42

universal, and the definition of a universal [ 1 6] fits it. On the basis of this passage, it is proven that words too are universals. To them alone is the task of being the predicate terms of propositions ascribed. [22] Since both things and words seem to be called universals, it must be asked how the definition ofa uni­ versal can be adapted to things. For no thing or col­ lection of things seems to be predicated of several singly, which the characteristic feature of a universal demands. For even though this people, or this house, or Socrates, is said of all its parts together, yet no one ever calls them universals, since their predication does not reach to singulars.4 :\'ow one thing is predicated of several much less than a collection is. So let us hear how they call either one thing or a collection a "uni­ versal," and let us set out all the views of everyone.

[ First Theory] [ 2 3 ] Some people take "universal thing" in such a way that they set up essentially the same substance in things diverse from one another through forms. This substance is the "material essence" of the singulars it is in. It is one in itself, and diverse only through the forms of its inferiors. If these forms happened to be separated from it, there would be no difference at all among the things that are in fact distinct from one an­ other only by the diversity of forms. For the matter is entirely the same essentially. [ 24] For example, in single, numerically distinct men there is the same substance man, which becomes Plato here through these accidents and Socrates there through those accidents. [2 5) Porphyry seems to agree completely with these people when he says, "Several men are one by partic­ ipation in the species, but the one and common man is made several in its particulars." And again, he says, "Such things are called individuals because each of 4. Let the parts of a house be the roof, the walls, and the floor. Then the house can in a sense be predicated of all its parts together (we can truly say 'The roof and the walls and the floor are the house"). But it cannot be pred­ icated of them singly (we cannot truly say "The roof is the house").

them consists of characteristics the collection of which is not found in anything else.'' [ 26] Likewise, they also posit one and essentially the same substance animal in single animals that dif­ fer in species. They draw this substance into diverse species by taking on diverse differences. For example, if out of this wax I make on the one hand a statue of a man and on the other a statue of an ox, by adapting di­ verse forms to entirely the same essence that remains the same throughout. [27] But it makes a difference in the example that the same wax does not make up the two statues at the same time, as is allowed in the case of a universal ­ that is, the universal is common, Boethius says, in such a way that the same whole is at the same time i n diverse things, of which it constitutes the substance materially. Although in itself it is universal, the same whole is singular through advening forms. By nahJre it subsists in itself, without those advening forms, but in no way does it actually persist without them. It is universal in its nature, but singular in actuality. It is understood i n the simplicity of its universality as in­ corporeal and nonsensible, but the same whole sub­ sists in actuality through its accidents as corporeal and sensible. As Boethius testifies, the same things subsist as singulars and are understood as universals.

[Objections to the First Theory] [28] This is one of two views. Although most au­ thorities appear to agree with it, the philosophy of na­ ture contradicts it in all respects. [29] �Objection I : ] For if essentially the same thing exists in several singulars, then even though diverse forms occupy it, this substance brought about by these forms must be [identical with] that one occupied by those forms. For example the animal formed by ra­ tionality is the animal formed by irrationality. Thus, rational animal is irrational animal. And so contraries reside together in the same thing. In fact, they are not contraries any more at all when they coincide in en­ tirely the same essence at once. For example, white­ ness and blackness would not be contraries if they happened to occur together in this one thing, even though the thing would be white from one source and

Glosses on Porphyry black from another, in the same way it is white from one source and hard from another- namely, from whiteness and hardness. For diverse contraries cannot inhere in the same thing at once, even in theory, as rel­ atives and lots of other things can. Thus Aristotle, in the chapter on relation, 5 shows that great and small in­ here together in diverse respects in the same thing. Nevertheless he proves that they are not contraries, just because they are together in the same thing. [30] [Reply 1 : ] But perhaps it will be said, accord­ ing to this theory, that rationality and irrationality are no less contraries because they are found in this way in the same thing-that is, in the same genus or in the same species - unless they are based in the same individual. [ 3 1 ] [Refutation of reply 1 : But that they are based in the same individual] is shown as follows: Rationality and irrationality are truly in the same individual, be­ cause they are in Socrates. :\ow the fact that they are together in Socrates is proved on the grounds that they are together in Socrates and Browny 6 But Socrates and Brawny are [identical with] Socrates. Socrates and Brawny really are Socrates, because Socrates is Socrates and Browny7 - that is, because Socrates is Socrates and Socrates is Brawny. That Socrates really is Brawny is shown as follows, following this view: (32] Whatever is in Socrates other than the adven­ ing8 forms of Socrates is what is in Brawny other than the advening forms of Browny. 9 But whatever is in Brawny other than the advening forms of Brawny just

5. The reference is to the Categories, but the passage is not in the chapter on relation (7), as Abelard says, but in­ stead in the cha pter on quantity, that is, in 6, 5b3 3-6a9. 6. Bumellus or Brunell us ( "Brawny") is the name of an ass, the paradigm of an irrational animal. The exam­ ple is a favorite one in Abelard. 7. The point of this step of the argument is merely to per­ form a simple conversion: If x is y and z, then y and z are x. The real work of the argument is still to come. 8. Throughout this and the next paragraph, I have inter­ preted Abelard's "forms" as the "advening" forms of [27]. I do not think the interpretation is controversial, but the reader should be notified. 9. That is, animality is in both of them. =

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is Browny. 1 0 Thus, whatever is in Socrates other than the advening forms of Socrates is B rawny. But if that is so, then since Socrates himself is what is other than the advening forms of Socrates, 1 1 Socrates himself is Brawny. [ 3 3 ] The fact that what we assumed above is true, namely that whatever is in Brawny other than the ad­ vening forms of Brawny just is Brawny, is plain be­ cause (a) the forms of Browny are not Brawny, since in that case accidents would be substance, and (b) nei­ ther are the matter and the forms of Brawny together Brawny, since in that case one would have to grant that body and something already a body are body. 1 2 ( 34] [Reply Z:] Some people, looking for a way out of this problem, criticize only the words of the proposi­ tion 'Rational animal is irrational animal,' not the judg­ ment. They say [animal] is indeed both but this fact is not properly shown by the words 'Rational animal is ir­ rational animal.' For the thing [animal], although it is the same, is called "rational" on one basis and "irra­ tional" on another-that is, from opposite forms. (3 5] [Refutation of reply Z: J But surely forms at­ tached to the same thing 1 3 at exactly the same time no longer stand in opposition to one another. 14 (36] Furthermore, they do not criticize these propositions: 'A rational animal is a mortal animal' or 'A white animal is a walking animal,' 1 5 on the grounds 10.

On this step, see [ 3 3 j . I I . Presumably this i s s o for the same reason that what­ ever is in Brawny other than the advening forms of Brawny just is Brawny. Again, see [ 3 3 j . I 2. There i s a textual problem i n this sentence, the cru­ cial sentence of the argument. I have followed the read­ ing in Peter King, Peter Abailard and the Problem of Universals (Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 1 982), Ch. 6, S 4. The argument in ( 3 1 )-(3 3) is a notori­ ously obscure one and subject to many interpretations. For a very sensible discussion, see King, Ch. 6. 1 3 . Conjecturing 'eidem' for the edition's 'eis.' 1 4. Thus the problem has not been avoided. Either there cannot simultaneously be rational animals and irrational animals, or else rationality and irrationality are not con­ traries. :\either alternative is acceptable. 1 5. Latin's lack of an indefinite a rticle m akes it some-

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Peter Abelard,

1 079-1 1 42

that the animal is not mortal insofar as it is rational and does not walk insofar as it is white. Rather they main­ tain these propositions as entirely true because the same animal has both features at once, even though the reason is different in each case. Otherwise they would not admit that any animal is a man, since noth­ ing is a man insofar as it is an animal. [ 37] [Objection 2:] Furthermore in accordance with what the above theory holds, there are only ten essences for all things: the ten most general genera. For in each of the categories there is found only one essence, which is made diverse (as was said [ 2 3 ] ) only through the forms of its inferiors and would have no variety at all without them. Therefore, just as all sub­ stances are basically the same, so too for qualities and quantities, etc. Since therefore Socrates and Plato have in themselves things from each of the categories, but these things are basically the same, it follows that all the forms of the one are also forms of the other. The forms in themselves are not in essence diverse from one another, and neither are the substances they are attached to. For example, the quality of the one and the quality of the other, since each is basically quality. Therefore, Socrates and Plato are no more diverse from one another because of the nature of qualities than they are because of the nature of substance. For there is only one essence of their substance, j ust as there is only one essence of their qualities too. For the same reason neither does quantity make a difference between them, since it too is the same. :\or do the other categories. Thus no difference can arise from their forms, which are not diverse in themselves any more than their substances are. [ 38] [Objection 3:] Further, how would we regard there as being a numerical "many" among substances, if there were only a diversity of advening forms with what is basically the same subject substance persist­ ing? For we do not call Socrates "numerically many" because of his taking on many forms.

times hard to decide whether it is better to translate with or without one. Here it seems smoother to include it. But the reader should understand that the Latin syntax here is exactly the same as in "Rational animal is irrational an­ imal" in [34].

[ 39] [Objection 4:] :\either can it be maintained that those who hold this first theory mean for individ­ uals to be produced through their accidents. For if in­ dividuals draw their being from accidents, then surely accidents are naturally prior to individuals, just as differences are naturally prior to the species they bring into being. For just as man is distinguished by being informed by a difference, so they call Socrates ["Socrates"] from his taking on accidents. Thus Socrates cannot exist apart from his accidents, any more than man can exist apart from its differences. So Socrates is not the underlying foundation for the accidents, just as man is not the underlying foundation for its differ­ ences. But if accidents are not in individual substances as in subjects, they are surely not in universal sub­ stances. For Aristotle shows [Categories 5, 2a34-b6] that, in all cases, whatever is in secondary substances as in subjects, the same things are in primary sub­ stances as in subjects. [ 40] So from these considerations it is plain that the theory in which what is basically the same essence is said to be in diverse things at once is completely lack­ ing in reason.

[Second Theory] [4 1 ] Thus other people with a different theory of universality, who get closer to the true theory of the matter, say single things not only are diverse from one another by their advening forms, but are discrete "per­ sonally" in their essences, and what is in one thing is in no way in any other, whether it is matter or form in the thing. They cannot subsist any the less discrete in their essences even when their forms are removed, be­ cause their "personal" discreteness (that is, the dis­ creteness according to which this one is not that one) does not arise from those forms but is from the very di­ versity of the essence, just as the forms themselves are diverse from one another in themselves. Otherwise the diversity of forms would go on to infinity, so that one would have to assume yet others to account for the di­ versity of other forms. [42] Porphyry made note of a difference like this between a most general genus and a most specific species when he said, "Further, neither would a

Glosses on Porphyry speci es ever become a most general genus or a genus a most specific species." As if he were to say: "This is the difference between them, that the essence of this is not the essence of that." [43 ] So too the discreteness of the categories does not depend on any forms that produce it, but only on the diversification of each proper essence. [44] But since these people want all things to be di­ verse from one another in such a way that none of th em participates either essentially the same matter or essentially the same form with another, and yet they still retain a universal in things, they call things that are discrete "the same," not essentially but indiffer­ ently. For example, single men who are in themselves discrete they call "the same in man" - that is, they do not differ in the nature of humanity. The same things they call singular according to their discreteness they call universal according to their "indifference" and the agreement of likeness. [45] [Variation I :] But there is disagreement here too. Some people take the universal thing as consist­ ing only in a collection of several things. They do not at all call Socrates and Plato by themselves a "species"; rather they call all men collected together the "species" man, and all animals taken together the "genus" ani­ mal, and so on for other cases. [46] Boethius seems to agree with them: "Species is to be regarded as nothing else than the thought gath­ ered from the substantial likeness of individuals. Genus, on the other hand, is the thought gathered from the l ikeness of species." When he says "gathered from the likeness," he implies a gathering of several things Otherwise genus and species \vould in no way have any "predication of several" or a "containing many in a universal thing," and there would be no fewer uni­ versals than singulars. [47] [Variation 2 : ] But there are other people who not only call all men collected together the "species," but also single men insofar as they are men. When they say the thing that is Socrates is predicated of several, they are taking this in a metaphorical sense, as if they were saying several men are "the same" as (that is, uagree" with) him, or he with several men. With re­ spect to the number of things, they maintain as many species as individuals, and as many genera. But with respect to similarity of natures, they assign a lesser

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number of universals than of singulars. All men are both many by their personal discreteness and also one by the likeness of humanity. The same men are judged to be diverse from themselves with respect to discrete­ ness and likeness. For example, Socrates insofar as he is a man is divided from himself insofar as he is Socrates. The same thing could not be its own genus or species unless it had some difference from itself; what are relatives should be opposites in at least some respect.

[Arguments against the Various Forms of the Second Theory] [48] :\ow let us first refute the theory stated above about a "collection" [45 ] . Let us ask how the whole collection of men taken together, which is said to be one species, is able to be predicated of several so that it is a universal, and yet the whole collection is not said of single things. If it is granted that the collection is predicated of diverse things through its parts - that is, insofar as its single parts are fitted to themselves 1 6 that has nothing to do with the kind of community a universal has. The universal, as Boethius bears wit­ ness, is supposed to be in each of its singulars as a whole. In this respect a universal is distinguished from the kind of common thing that is common by parts, like a field, the different parts of which belong to dif­ ferent people. [49] Furthermore, Socrates too would likewise be "said of' several through his diverse parts. So he would be a universal too. [ 50] Further, any plurality of men taken together would rightly be called a "universal," since the defini­ tion of a universal would fit them likewise. Or any such random collection would even be called a species, so that the whole collection of men would al­ ready include many species. [ 5 I ] Likewise, we would end up calling any col­ lection whatever of bodies and spirits one universal "substance," so that since the whole collection of sub-

1 6. I.e., the "collection" is predicated part by part of all the members of the collection.

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stances is one most general genus, it would follow that when any one substance is taken away while the rest remain, [we would have a most general genus. And since this holds for any substance], we would have many most general genera among substances. [ 52 ] But perhaps it will be said in reply that no col­ lection included in a most general genus is itself a most general genus. [ 5 3 ] But I still object that if when one of the sub­ stances is separated, the remaining collection is not a most general genus and yet the universal substance still endures, then that remaining collection has to be a species of substance and has to have a coequal species under the same genus. But what coequal species can there be opposite to it? For either the latter species of substance is straightforwardly contained in the for­ mer, or else it shares some individuals with it, as ra­ tional animal does with mortal animal. [ 54] Further, every universal is naturally prior to its own individuals. But a collection of any things what­ ever is an integral whole with respect to the singulars of which it is constituted, and is naturally posterior to the things out of which it is put together. [ 5 5 ] Further, Boethius in his On Division [879D] gives the following difference between an integral whole and a universal: The part is not the same as the integral whole, whereas the species is the same as the genus. But how can the whole collection of men be the same as the multitude of animals? [ 56] It now remains for us to attack those [4 7] who call "universal" the single individuals insofar as they agree with others, and who grant that the same things are predicated of several, not in such a way that the several are essentially those things but because the several agree with them. But if being predicated of several is the same as "agreeing" with several, then how do we say an individual is predicated "of one thing only" [ 1 6], since there is nothing that "agrees" with only one thing? [ 57] Also, how is there any difference between a universal and a singular in virtue of being "predicated of several," since in entirely the same way as man agrees with several things, so too Socrates agrees with several things? Certainly man insofar as it is man and Socrates insofar as he is man agree with other things. But neither man insofar as it is Socrates nor Socrates

insofar as he is Socrates agrees with other things. So whatever man has Socrates has, and in exactly the same way. [ 5 8] Furthermore, since the things are granted to be entirely the same -that is, the man that is in Socrates and Socrates himself- there is no difference between the one and the other. For no thing is diverse from itself at one and the same time, since whatever it has in itself, it has in entirely the same way. Thus Socrates, both white and literate, even though he has diverse things in himself, 1 7 nevertheless is not diverse from himselfbecause of them, since he has them both and in exactly the same way. For he is not literate in any other way than from himself, or white in any other way than from himself. So too, as white he is not some­ thing other than h imself, or as literate something other than himself. [ 59] Also, how can their claim that Socrates and Plato "agree in man" be taken, since it is plain that all men differ from one another both in matter and in form? For if Socrates agrees with Plato in the thing that is man, but no other thing is man but Socrates or someone else, then Socrates has to agree with Plato either in himself or in someone else. But in himself he is instead diverse from Plato; the case with someone else is also plain, since Socrates is not someone else. [60] On the other hand, there are those who take 'agreeing in man' negatively, as if to say: Socrates does not differ from Plato in man. [ 6 1 ] But in this sense it can also be said that he does not differ from Plato in rock, since neither one is a rock. Thus there is no greater agreement between them to be noted in man than in rock, unless perhaps some premise is added in advance, as if to say "They are men because they do not differ in man. " 1 8 [ 6 2 ] But this cannot work either, since it is com­ pletely false that they do not differ in man. For if Socrates does not differ from Plato in a thing that is man, then neither does he differ from Plato in himself.

1 7. �amely, whiteness and literacy. 1 8. I.e., one might want to add a premise that allows that if A and B do not differ in man then they agree in man, but that does not allow this to work where certain other terms (like 'rock') are substituted for 'man.'

Glosses on Porphyry For if in himself Socrates differs from Plato, but Socrates is a thing that is man, then certainly Socrates also dif­ fers from h i m in a thing that is man.

[Abelard's Own Theory] [63] But now that we have shown the reasons why things taken neither singly nor collectively can be called "universals" insofar as they are predicated of several, it remains to ascribe this kind of universality only to words. [64] Thus just as some names are called "appella­ tive" 19 by grammarians and some are called "proper," so too some simple expressions are called "universal" by dialecticians and some are called "particular" ­ that is, "singular." [65] :\ow a universal word is one that on the basis of its invention is apt to be predicated of several things one by one. For example the name 'man,' which can be ccnjoined to particular names of men in accor­ dance with the nature of the subject things it is im­ posed on. But a singular word is one that is predicable of one thing only. For example 'Socrates,' when it is taken as the name of one person only. If you take it equivocally, you do not produce one word but many words in signification. For according to Priscian 20 [2. 145.9] many names can come together in one word. 2 1 Therefore, when a universal is described as be­ ing "what is predicated of several" [ l 6j, the 'what' at the beginning not only indicates the simplicity of the expression, to distinguish it from a complex phrase, but also indicates the unity of signification, to distin­ guish it from equivocal terms Y

19. I.e . "common na mes . 20. A Latin grammarian, fl. A.D. ;oo. His work was fre­ quently cited in the twelfth century. 2 1 . 'Socrates' is a proper name even if there are many people named "Socrates." In that case it is a proper name of several people by equivocation, which is unlike the way a common name like 'man' names several people univocally. 22. A universal term signifies several things on the basis of one "institution" or "invention," whereas an equivocal ,

"

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[66] :\"ow that we have shown what the term 'what' at the beginning of the definition of a universal in­ volves, let us carefully consider the two other parts of the definition that follow it: 'predicated' and 'ofseveral.' [67] To be "predicated" is to be conjoinable to something truly by means of the expressive force of a present-tensed substantive verb. For example 'man' can be truly conjoined to diverse things through a sub­ stantive verb. Verbs like 'runs' and 'walks,' which are predicated of several things, also have the force of a substantive verb in its copulative function.23 [68] 'Ibus Aristotle in On Interpretation II [ 1 0, 20a3-6], 24 says "In those propositions in which 'is' does not occur- for example in one where 'runs' or 'walks' occurs - the verbs produce the same effect oc­ curring there as if 'is' were added." r69] And again he says [ i bid. 1 2, 2 1 b9-1 0], "There is no difference between 'A man walks' and 'A man is walking'." [70] His phrase 'of several' [ 1 6] groups names with respect to the diversity of what they name. Otherwise 'Socrates' would be predicated of several things when one says 'This man is Socrates,' 'This animal is Socrates,' 'This white thing is Socrates,' 'This musi­ cian is Socrates.' Although these names are diverse i n meaning, they have entirely the same subject thing. [7 1 ] But note that syntactical conjoining, which grammarians are concerned with, is other than con­ joining with respect to predication, which dialecti­ cians consider. For according to the force of the syntactical construction, 'man' and 'stone' (and any other noun in the nominative case) can be conjoined just as much as 'animal' and 'man' can with respect to making plain a certain understanding, but not with re­ spect to showing the status of a thing. [72] So a syntactical conjoining is a good one whenever it indicates a complete judgment, whether term signifies several things on the basis of several insti­ tutions or inventions operating at once. 23. I.e., 'runs' amounts to 'is running,' and 'walks' to 'is walking.' 24. In the \.1iddle Ages, On Interpretation was divided into two parts or books. The division came between Chs. 9 and 1 0 .

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the j udgment is so or not. But a conjoining with re­ spect to predication, which we are concerned with here, pertains to the nature of things and to indicating the truth of their status. If someone says 'A man is a stone' he produces a well-formed syntactical con­ struction of 'man' or 'stone' with respect to the sense he wanted to indicate. There was no grammatical mis­ take. With respect to the force of the statement, 'stone' is here predicated of 'man,' with which it is grammat­ ically construed as a predicate, insofar as false cate­ gorical propositions have a predicate term too. �evertheless, 'stone' is not predicable of it in the na­ ture of things. Here, when we are defining a "univer­ sal," we are concerned only with the latter kind of force of predication. [73] :-.;ow it seems that a "universal" name is never quite the same as an "appellative" name, or a "singu­ lar" name as a "proper" name. Rather they are related to one another as broader and narrower. For appella­ tive and proper names not only include nominative cases but also the oblique cases, which are not predi­ cated and so are excluded by the expression 'to be predicated' in the definition of a universal . [ 74] Because oblique forms are less necessary [than nominative forms] for making a statement- which ac­ cording to Aristotle [On Interpretation 4, l 7a6-7] is the only present topic of speculation (that is, of di­ alectical consideration) -and because only the state­ ment makes up arguments, therefore oblique forms are in a way not counted by Aristotle himself as names. He does not call them "names" but "cases of names" (ibid. 2, 1 6a3 2-bl ] . [ 7 5 ] On the other hand, just a s not all appellative or proper names have to be called universal or singular re­ spectively, so too the other way around. For "universal" not only includes names, but also verbs and infinite names, to which infinite names the definition of an ap­ pellative Priscian gives does not seem to apply. 2 ; [76) :\ow that the definition of'universal' and 'sin­ gular' has been applied to words [rather than to things J , 2 5 . Priscian, Institutiones grammaticae 1 . ;8. 1 4-16: ":\'ow this is the difference between a proper name and an appellative: the appellative is naturally common to many things that the same general or specific substance or quality or quantity joins together."

let us carefully investigate the characteristic of univer­ sal words especially. [ 77) Questions have been raised about these uni­ versals. For there is a doubt about their signification most of all, since they do not appear to have any [ uni­ versal] subject thing [of which they can be predi­ cated], or to establish a firm understanding of anything. [78] Universal names did not seem to be imposed on any things, since all things subsisted discretely in themselves and did not agree in any thing (as was shown ( 59)-(62] ) in such a way that universal names could be imposed in accordance with their agreement in this thing. [79] So, since universal names are certainly not im­ posed on things according to the difference in their discreteness (for then they would not be common but singular names), and again since universal names can­ not name things as agreeing in any thing (for there is no thing they agree in), therefore universal names seem to bring about no signification of things- espe­ cially since in addition they establish no understand­ ing of any thing. [ 80) Thus Boethius in his On Division [889A-B] , says the word 'man' produces a doubt in the under­ standing. When the term is heard, he says, "the hearer's intelligence is carried away by many distur­ bances and is drawn into errors. For unless someone delimits the term by saying 'Every man walks,' or at least 'Some man walks,' and indicates this man (if he happens to be walking), the hearer's understanding has nothing it can reasonably understand." [8 1 ] Because 'man' is imposed on all single men from the same cause - namely because they are a ra­ tional, mortal animal - that very community of impo­ sition prevents any one person from being understood in the term 'man,' as on the contrary in the name 'Socrates' there is understood one man's own person. This is why 'Socrates' is called a "singular" name. In the common name 'man,' neither Socrates himself nor anyone else nor the whole collection of men is rea­ sonably understood on the basis of the word . (82] :\either, as some people say, is Socrates him­ self "insofar as he is a man" picked out by the name 'man.' For even if only Socrates is sitting in this house, and even if the proposition 'A man is sitting in this

Glosses on Porphyry house'26 is true about him alone, nevertheless this is in no way imputed to Socrates by means of the name 'man' in subject position - not even "insofar as he is a man." Otherwise it would reasonably be understood from the proposition itself that sitting inhered in Socrates, so that from the fact that a man is sitting in this house it could be inferred that Socrates is sitting in it. [83] Likewise, no one else can be understood in the name 'man.' But neither is the whole collection of men understood in that term, since the proposition can be true on the basis of just one man. [ 84] So neither 'man' nor any other universal word appears to signify anything. For it does not establish an understanding of any thing. But it seems there can be no understanding that does not have a subject thing it conceives. Thus Boethius in his Commentary says "Every understanding arises from a subject thing ei­ ther as that thing is disposed or as it is not disposed (for no understanding can arise from no subject)." [8;] For these reasons universals seem wholly un­ suited to signification. [86] But this is not so. For they in a way "signify" diverse things by naming them, not by establishing an understanding that arises from them but one that per­ tains to each of them. [87] For example, the word 'man' names single men on the basis of a common cause: that they are men. (It is called a "universal" on account of this cause.) It also constitutes a certain understanding, a common one, not a proper one - that is, a common understanding that pertains to the single men whose common likeness it conceives. [88] But now let us carefully examine what we just touched on briefly: (i) what is the common cause in ac­ cordance with which a universal name is imposed, (ii) what is the understanding's common conception of the likeness of things, and (iii) whether a word is called "common" on account of the common cause things

26. Because Latin has no indefinite article, the sentence 'A man is sitting in this house' looks exactly the same in Latin as the sentence '\1an is sitting in this house.' I in­ cluded the article for the sake of a smooth reading, but it should not be read as an existential quantifier.

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agree in, or on account of the common conception, or on account of both together. [ 89] First let us consider the common cause. Single men, who are discrete from one another since they dif­ fer both in their own essences and in their own forms (as we mentioned above while investigating the physics of the matter [ 28--40] ) , nevertheless agree in that they are men. I do not say they agree in man, since no thing is a man27 unless it is discrete. Rather they agree in being a man. [90] �ow being a man is not a man or any other thing, if we consider the matter carefully, any more than not being in a subject is any thing, or not admit­ ting contraries, or not admitting ofgreater and less. Yet Aristotle says [Categories ; , 2a 1 2-4b l 9] all substances agree in these respects. For since (as was shown above [ ;9-62]) there can be no agreement in a thing, if nev­ ertheless there is an agreement among some things, it must be taken according to what is not any thing. Thus Socrates and Plato are alike in being a man, as a horse and an ass are alike in not being a man, for which rea­ son each of them is called a "non man." So for things to agree with one another is for each one of them to 2 5 - for be the same or not to be the same example, to be a man or to be white, or not to be a man or not to be white. [9 1 ] But it seems we should balk at taking the agreement of things according to what is not any thing, as if we are uniting in nothing things that exist when we say this man and that man agree in the status of man - that is, in that they are men. But we mean only that they are men and in this respect do not differ at all - I mean in the respect that they are men, even though we appeal to no essence here. [92] :\ow someone's being a man, which is not a thing, we call the status of man. We also called it [ 88-__

27. See n. 26. 28. 'Idem esse vel non esse. ' I do not translate this as 'to be the same thing or not to be the same thing,' since the point of the passage is that we are not talking about things. I think the 'idem' here is simply a placeholder. The idea is that for things to "agree" is for each of them to be , where the blank is filled with the same term in each case. The examples immediately following bear out this interpretation. ____

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89] the "common cause" of the imposition of a name on single men insofar as they agree with one another. We often call by the name 'cause' what are not any thing. For example, when we say "He was flogged be­ cause he does not want to go to the forum." 'He does not want to go to the forum,' which occurs as a "cause" here, is no essence. We can likewise call the status of man the things29 themselves established in the nature of man, the common likeness of which he who im­ posed the word conceived. [93] :\ow that the signification of universals has been shown (they signify things by naming them) and the common cause of their imposition has been pointed out, let us show what the understandings are that they constitute. [94] First let us distinguish in general the nature of all understandings. [95] Since both sensation and understanding be­ long to the soul, the difference between them is this: The senses are engaged only through bodily organs and perceive only bodies or what are in bodies. For ex­ ample, vision perceives a tower or the tower's visible qualities. But the understanding, just as it needs no bodily organ, so neither does it have to have a subject body to which it is directed. Instead it is satisfied with a thing's likeness the mind itself makes up for itself, to which it directs the action of its intelligence. So when the tower is destroyed or removed from sight, the sen­ sation that dealt with it is lost, but the understanding of it remains since the thing's likeness is retained in the mind. [96] \"ow just as the sense is not the thing sensed, to which it is directed, so the understanding is not the form of the thing it conceives. Instead an "under­ standing" is a certain action of the soul on the basis of which the soul is said to be in a state of understand­ ing. But the form to which it is directed is a kind of imaginary and made-up thing, which the mind con­ trives for itself whenever it wants and however it wants. The imaginary cities seen in a dream are like this, or the form of a building that will be made, which the ar-

29. The whole sentence is puzzling, but the word 'things' especially so. Abelard has been at pains to emphasize that the status is not a thing.

chitect conceives as a model and exemplar of the thing to be formed. We cannot call this either a substance or an accident. [97] Yet some people call this made-up thing the same as the "understanding." Thus the building (the tower) I conceive when the tower is absent, and ob­ serve as tall and square and in an open field, they call the same as the "understanding" of the tower. Aristotle seems to agree with them; in On Interpretation [ I , 1 6a7] he calls "likenesses of things" the passions of the soul they call "understandings." (98] On the other hand, we call the image the "like­ ness of the thing." But there is no objection if the un­ derstanding too is called a "likeness" in a way- that is, because it conceives what is properly called the "like­ ness of the thing." We have said, and rightly so, that what is properly called the "likeness" is different from the understanding. For I ask: Is the squareness and the tallness a true form of the understanding that is led to the likeness of the tower's quantity and of its structure? But surely true squareness and true tallness inhere only in bodies. Also, neither an understanding nor any true essence can be formed by a made-up quality. Thus all that remains is that, just as the quality is a made-up one, so too a made-up substance is the sub­ ject of that quality. (99] Perhaps an image in a mirror, which seems to appear to sight as being a subject, can truly be said to be "nothing,'' because in the white surface of the mirror the quality of the contrary color [black] often appears. ( 1 00] When the soul both senses and understands the same thing at once- as when it discerns a stone ­ it can be asked whether then too the understanding is dealing with the image of the stone, or whether the un­ derstanding and the sense together are both dealing with the stone itself. But it seems more reasonable that the understanding does not need an image in that case, since the truth of the substance itself is present to it. [ I 0 I ] But if someone says that where sensation oc­ curs there is no understanding, we do not grant that. For it often happens that the soul perceives one thing and understands another, as is quite apparent with people who are studying. Although with their eyes open they perceive things present to them, yet they are thinking of the other things they are writing about.

Glosses on Porphyry [ 1 02] :\ow that we have seen the nature of under­ in general, let us distinguish the under­ ndings sta standings of universals and singulars. They are divided from one another insofar as the understanding that goes with a universal name conceives a common and confused image of many things. But the understand­ ing a singular word generates comprises the proper and so to speak "singular" form of one thing- that is, a form related to one "person" only. [ 1 03] Thus when I hear 'man,' a kind of model rises up in my mind that is related to single men in such a way that it is common to all of them and proper to none. But when I hear 'Socrates,' a certain form rises up in my mind that expresses the likeness of a certain person. Hence by the word 'Socrates,' which produces in the mind the proper form of one person, a certain thing is picked out and determined. But with the word 'man,' the understanding of which depends on the common form of all men, that very community pro­ duces a "confusion" so that we do not understand any one form from among them all. [ 1 04] So 'man' is correctly said to signify neither Socrates nor anyone else, since no one man is picked out by the force of the name, even though it names sin­ gular men. But 'Socrates' or any other singular term, is not only able to name a singular but also to deter­ mine a subject thing. [ 10;] But because, following Boethius, we said above [ 84] that every understanding has a subject thing, how does this claim fit the understandings of universals? [ 1 06] Certainly it should be noted that Boethius in­ troduces this claim in the sophistical argument where he shows the understanding of universals is an empty one. So there is no problem if he does not proceed on this basis in stating the truth of the matter. Thus when he is avoiding falsehood he endorses other people's reasoning. [ I 07] Also, we can call the understanding's "sub­ ject thing" either (a) the true substance of the thing, as when understanding occurs together with sensa­ tion, or (b) the conceived form of any thing when the thing is absent, whether that form is common, as we said [happens in the case of a universal ( l 02) ] . or proper. I mean "common" with respect to the likeness it preserves of many things, even though in itself it is regarded as one thing.

19 ;

[ I 08] In this way, to indicate the nature o fa l l lions one picture can be made that is proper to none of the lions it represents. Again, another picture can be ap­ plied to distinguish any one of them, a picture that de­ notes something proper to it. For example, if the lion is painted as limping, maimed, or wounded by Her­ cules' spear. [ 1 09] Therefore, just as one kind of figure of things is painted common and another is painted singular, so too one kind is conceived common and another is conceived proper. [ 1 1 0] :\ow it is not absurd to doubt whether the name also signifies this form the understanding is di­ rected to. That it does appears to be confirmed both by authority and by reason. [ I l l j For Priscian in the first part of his Construc­ tions [ 2 . 1 3 D-l0), '0 although he had already pointed out the common imposition of universals on individ­ uals, seemed to add another kind of signification for them as well: signifYing a common form. He says, "The terms by which the genera or species of the things in nature are indicated can also be proper to the general and special forms of things constructed intel­ ligibly in the divine mind before they go forth into bodies." In this passage God is treated as a builder about to put something together, who conceives be­ forehand in his soul an exemplary form of the thing to be put together, and operates in accordance with the likeness of this form. 'lbe form is said to "proceed into a body" when a true thing is put together according to the likeness of this form. [ 1 1 2 ] :\"ow this common conception is rightly at­ tributed to God, not to man. For those works - the general or special status in a nature -are God's31 work, not a builder's. For instance man, soul, stone are God's work, but a house or a sword are man's. So the latter­ the house and the sword - are not works of nature as the former are. The words for them do not fall under substance but rather accident, and so they are neither genera nor most specific species. 30. Bks. 1 7- 1 8 of Priscian's lnstitutwnes grammaticae are on "construction- that is, the ordering of the parts of speech among themselves" (Priscian, 1 .4.9-10). 3 1 . Restoring 'dei' where the edition deleted it.

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[ 1 1 3 ] Thus also such conceptions by abstraction are correctly attributed to the divine mind, not to the human mind. For men, who know things only through the senses, scarcely ever- or perhaps never­ rise to this kind of simple intelligence. The external sensuousness of accidents prevents men from con­ ceiving the natures of things purely. But God, to whom all the things he created are plain through themselves and who knew them before they existed, distinguishes the single statils in themselves. Sensa­ tion is not an obstacle for him who alone has true intelligence. [ 1 14] Hence for things they do not touch32 by sense, men succeed in having only opinion rather than intelligence. Experience itself teaches us this. For thinking of some city we have not seen, when we ar­ rive there we find we thought of it otherwise than it is. [ 1 1 5 ] So too, I believe, we have opinion rather than real intelligence of the internal forms that do not reach the senses, such as rationality, mortality, father­ hood, sitting. [ 1 1 6] Yet any names of any existing things, insofar as is in their power, generate understanding rather than opinion, since their inventor meant to impose them in accordance with certain natures or charac­ teristics of things, even if he did not know how to think out the nature or characteristic of the thing. [ 1 1 7] Priscian [ I l l ] calls these common concep­ tions "general" or "specific" because in one way or an­ other they suggest general or specific names to us. He says universal terms are themselves, so to speak, proper names for these conceptions. Even though they are of confused signification as far as the named essences are concerned, they do immediately direct the listener's mind to the common conception, just as proper names do to the one thing they signify. [ 1 1 8] Porphyry himself, when he says certain things are constituted out of matter and form and cer­ tain others after a likeness of matter and form, seems to have understood this kind of conception in the phrase 'after a likeness of matter and form.' This will be discussed more fully in the appropriate place.

32. I conjecture 'attrectaverunt' for the edition's 'attrac­ taverunt' and am translating accordingly.

[ 1 1 9] Boethius too appears to have understood this same common conception when he says the thought gathered together from the likeness of many things is a genus or spec1es. [ 1 20] Some people also assert Plato was of the same view, insofar as he called the common Ideas he put in nous "genera" or "species." [ 1 2 1 ] Perhaps it is in this respect that Boethius mentions Plato disagreed with Aristotle, where Boethius says Plato meant genera and species and the rest not only to be understood as universal but also to be uni­ versal and to subsist outside bodies - as if he had said Plato was understanding by "universals" the common conceptions he set up in nous as separated from bod­ ies, perhaps not taking 'universal' according to com­ mon predication, as Aristotle does, but according to a common likeness of many things. For that common conception does not seem to be predicated of several things at all, like a name that is applied to several things one by one. [ 1 22 ] The fact that Boethius says Plato thought uni­ versals subsist outside sensibles can be explained in another way too, so that there is no dispute between the two philosophers' views. For what Aristotle said, that universals always subsist in sensible things, he said insofar as their act is concerned. The nature animal, which is indicated by the universal name ['animal'] (and in this respect is called a kind of"universal" by a transfer of meaning), is never actually found except in a sensible thing. Yet Plato thinks this nature subsists naturally in itself in such a way that it would retain its being even if not subjected to sense, and according to this "natural" being is called by the name 'universal.' And so what Aristotle denies with respect to the act Plato, the investigator of physics, assigns to a natural aptitude. So there is no disagreement between them. [ 1 2 3] Reason too seems to agree with the authori­ ties we have listed who seem to maintain that com­ mon forms are designated by universal names. What is it to conceive these common forms by means of names, other than for them to be signified by the names? But surely in that sense, when we make these common forms to be different from understandings, there emerges a third signification of names besides the thing and the understanding. Although authority does not maintain this, yet reason is not opposed to it.

Glosses on Porphyry [ 1 24 ] :\ow let us settle what we promised above [88] to decide, whether the community of universal names is judged by the common cause of imposition or by the common conception, or by both. There is no objection if it is by both. But the common cause, which is taken in accordance with the nature of things, seems to have the greater force. [ 1 2 5 ] What we mentioned above [ 1 03?] must also be decided, that the understandings of universals come about by abstraction, and also how we call them "alone," "bare," and "pure"- but not "empty." [ 1 26] First about abstraction. You need to know that matter and form always exist thoroughly mixed to­ gether. But the mind's reason has the power now to gaze on the matter by itself, now to attend to the form alone, now to conceive both mixed together. The first two understandings are by abstraction; they abstract something from conjoined things, to consider its very nature. But the third one is by conjunction. [ 1 27] For example, the substance of this man is body and animal and man, and is covered with an in­ finity of forms. When I attend to it in the material essence substance, setting aside all its additional forms, I have an understanding "by abstraction." Again, when I pay attention to the corporeality alone in it, which I conjoin to substance, here too even though the un­ derstanding is "by conjunction" with respect the first one (which only attended to the nature substance), nevertheless the same understanding also comes about "by abstraction" with respect to the forms other than corporeality, none of which I am paying attention to ­ for example being animate, having sensation, ration­ ality, whiteness. [ 1 28] Such understandings "by abstraction" per­ haps seemed to be "false" or "empty" because they per­ ceive the thing otherwise than as it subsists. For since such understandings attend to the matter by itself or the form separately, but neither of these subsists sepa­ rately, those understandings certainly seem to conceive the thing otherwise than as it is, and so to be "empty." [ 1 29] But that is not so. If someone understands a thing otherwise than as it is in the sense that he attends to it in terms of a nature or characteristic it does not have, that understanding is surely empty. But this does not happen with abstraction. For when I attend to this man only in terms of the nature substance or body, but

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not also in terms of the nature animal or man or liter­ ate, surely I understand nothing but what is in the na­ ture. But I do not pay attention to all the features it has. And when I say that I attend to the nature "only" insofar as it has this or that feature, the term 'only' refers to the attention, not to the mode of subsisting. Otherwise the understanding would be empty. For the thing does not have only this, but it is only attended to as having this. [ 1 30] Yet in another sense a thing is said to be un­ derstood in a certain way otherwise than as it is- not in another status than it is, as was said above [91 ?], but "otherwise" insofar as the mode of understanding is other than the mode of subsisting. For this thing is understood separately- not as separated- from that other one, although it does exist separately. The mat­ ter is perceived purely, and the form simply, although the former does not exist purely or the latter simply. Thus the purity or the simplicity is reduced to the un­ derstanding, not to the subsistence of the thing, so that they are a mode of understanding, not of subsisting. [ 1 3 1 ] 'The senses, too, often deal with composites differently. For example if a statue is half gold and half silver, I can perceive the conjoined gold and silver sep­ arately, looking now at the gold by itself, now at the sil­ ver by itself, perceiving the conjoined metals dividedly, not as divided. Indeed they are not divided. [ 1 3 2] So too the understanding attends by abstrac­ tion "dividedly," not as "divided." Otherwise it would be empty. [ 1 3 3 ] Yet perhaps there could be a sound under­ standing that considers what are conjoined as divided in one sense and conjoined in another, and conversely. For again, both the conjunction and division of things can be taken in two senses. We call certain things "conjoined" to one another through some likeness ­ for example these two men insofar as they are men, or insofar as they are literate. But certain other things we call "conjoined" through a putting together or a kind of aggregation- for example matter and form, or wine and water. Things adjoined to one another in the lat­ ter way are conceived in one way as divided and in an­ other way as conjoined. [ 1 34] Thus Boethius ascribes to the mind the power of being able, by means of its reason, to put to­ gether disjoint things and to resolve composite ones.

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Yet in neither operation does it go beyond the nature of the thing, but perceives only what is in the nature of the thing. Otherwise it would not be reason but opinion - that is, if the intelligence were to depart from the status of the thing. [ 1 3 ;] But a question arises here about the builder's plan: 33 Is it "empty" while he now holds in his mind the form of the future work, when the thing is not that way yeF If we grant this, we are forced to call God's plan "empty" too, which he had before his works were established. But if one says "empty" with respect to the effect- that is, in the sense that God would not by his labor complete what he foresees - then it is false that his providence was "empty." On the other hand, if someone calls it "empty" on the grounds that it would not yet be in harmony with the status of the future thing, we shudder at the awful words but do not reject the judgment. For it is true that the future status of the world did not materially exist while God was intelligi­ bly arranging what was still future. [ 1 36] But we do not usually call someone's thought or plan "empty" unless it lacks an effect, [so that it is not fulfilled ] . :\either do we say we think "in vain" un­ less we think of things we do not finish by working them out. And so, changing the words back to their usual sense, we do not call a plan "empty" that does not think "in vain" but only conceives things that do not yet exist materially as if they subsisted. That is nat­ ural to all plans. [ 1 37] Thinking about future matters is called "planning," about past ones is called "memory," and about present ones is called properly "intelligence." [ 1 3 8] :\ow if someone calls a person "deceived" who in his planning thinks about a future status as if about what already exists, rather he himself is deceived who thinks such a person should be called "deceived." For one who plans the future is not deceived unless he believes the situation to be already as he plans. :\ei­ ther does the conception of a nonexistent thing make

33. 'Providentia.' The term may also be translated 'prov­ idence' or 'foresight,' depending on the context. Some of the following discussion may be clearer if the reader keeps these alternatives in mind.

one "deceived," but rather the belief added to it. For even if I think of a rational crow, yet if I do not believe in it I am not deceived. So too neither is the planner deceived. For what he thinks of as if already existing he does not regard as really existing so. Rather he thinks of it as "present" in the sense that he posits it as present in the future. [ 1 39] Surely every conception of the mind is so to speak about what is present. For example, if I consider Socrates either insofar as he was a boy or insofar as he will be an old man, I join childhood or old age to him as ifat present. For I attend to him at present in a past or future characteristic. But no one calls this kind of memory "empty," because what it conceives as present it attends to in the past. We will discuss this more fully in our treatment of On Interpretation. [ 140] The problem in the case of God - that his substance, which alone is immutable and simple, is not varied by any conceptions of things or by any other forms, [and so the above account of planning cannot be applied to him] - is solved rather satisfactorily. For although the custom of human speech presumes to speak about the creator as if about creatures, since it calls him "pro\'ident" or "understanding," yet nothing should be understood or can exist in him distinct from him- neither understanding nor any other form. So every question about the understanding is superfluous as applied to God. But if we speak the truth more plainly, for him to plan the future is nothing other than for future things not be to hidden from him who in himself is true reason. [ 1 4 1 ] :\ow that we have pointed out many facts about the nature of abstraction, let us return to the un­ derstandings of universals, which must always come about by abstraction. For when I hear the term 'man' or 'whiteness' or 'white,' I am not by the force of the name itself reminded of all the natures or characteris­ tics in the subject things. Rather by 'man' I have a con­ ception only of animal, rational, mortal, not of later accidents as well. Yet this is a confused conception, not a discrete one. For the understandings of singulars too come about by abstraction, as when we say 'this sub­ stance,' 'this body,' 'this animal,' 'this man,' 'this white thing.' By the phrase 'this man' I attend only to the na­ ture man, but as regards a certain subject thing. But

Glosses on Porphyry bv the word 'man' I attend to the same nature simply i� itself, not as regards any one man. [ 142] Thus the understanding of universals is de­ servedly called "alone" and "bare" and "pure." "Alone," apart from sensation, because it does not perceive the thing as sensible. "Bare," with respect to the abstrac­ tion of forms, either all or some of them. "Pure" of everything, as far as being discrete is concerned, be­ cause no thing, whether matter or form, is picked out in it. In this last respect we called this kind of concep­ tion "confused," above [ 1 02]. [ 143] :\ow that we have examined these points, let us proceed to solve the questions about genera and species posed by Porphyry. We can do this easily now that the nature of all universals has been clarified. [ 144] Thus the first of these questions [4] was whether genera and species subsist- that is, signify any truly existing things - or are posited in the intellect alone, etc.-that is, are posited in empty opinion with­ out any thing, such as the names 'chimera' and 'goat­ stag,' which do not generate a correct understanding. [ 145] To this it must be replied that they really do signify truly existing things by naming them, the same things singular names signify. They are not posited in empty opiniou at all. Yet in a certain sense they are es­ tablished by an intellect that is "alone" and "bare" and "pure," in the sense given above [ 1 42]. �ow there is no objection if one who proposes a question takes cer­ tain words in one sense in asking it, and one who an­ swers the question takes them in another sense in answering it.34 It is as if the one who answers it were to say: "You are asking whether they are posited in the intellect alone," etc. You can take this so that it is true, as we have already explained above. [ 1 46] The words can also be taken in exactly the same sense on both sides, both by the answerer and by

'H. As Abelard is doing here. In the original question, the two alternatives were intended to be exclusive, so that the question meant: "Are universals to be regarded in the one way and not the other, or in the other way and not the one?" Abelard is answering the question as though the al­ ternatives were not intended to be exclusive, so that he can say "They are to be regarded in both ways."

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the asker. In that case there will be one question, not made up of opposites, about the first members of two dialectical questions, namely: "Do they exist or not?" and again "Are they posited in intellects alone, bare, and pure, or are they not?" [ I 47] The same thing can be said in the case of the second question [ ( 5 ) ] , which is whether, as subsisting, they are corporeal or incorporeal. That is, since it is granted that they signify subsistents, do they signify subsistents 35 that are corporeal or that are incorporeal? [ 1 48] Surely, as Boethius says, everything that exists is either corporeal or incorporeal, whether we take the names 'corporeal' and 'incorporeal' for a substantial body and for a nonbody, respectively, or for what can be perceived by a bodily sense (like man, stone, white­ ness) and36 for what cannot (like the soul, justice). [ 1 49] "Ine term 'corporeal' can also be taken for what is discrete, as if the question is: "Since they signify subsistents, do they signify them as discrete or as nondis­ crete?" For whoever investigates the truth of a matter well not only pays attention to what can be said truly but also to whatever can be maintained in an opinion. So even if it is certain to someone that no things besides discrete ones subsist, nevertheless because there could be an opinion to the effect that there were other things too, it is not out of place to ask about them as well. This last way of taking the term 'corporeal,' so that the ques­ tion asks about the discrete and the nondiscrete, seems to approximate the sense of the question more. [ 1 50] But in that case, when Boethius says every­ thing that exists is either corporeal or incorporeal, the alternative 'incorporeal' perhaps seems superfluous, since nothing that exists is "incorporeal" -that is, nondiscrete. [ 1 5 1 ] Likewise, in that case, neither does the point about the order of the questions seem important at all,37 except perhaps insofar as, just as 'corporeal' and

3 5 . Conjecturing 'aliqua' for the edition's 'alia. ' I have left the word untranslated, as implied in the word 'sub­ sistents,' which I have supplied. 36. Conjecturing 'et' for the edition's 'vel. ' 37. I.e., the words "as subsisting" at the beginning of ques­ tion 2 [ 147], which presuppose the answer to question I .

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'incorporeal' divide subsistents in another significa­ tion of the terms, so it seems they divide subsistents in this signification too, as if the one asking the question said: "I see that some existents are called corporeal and others incorporeal . Which of these shall we say are the things signified by universals?" 38 [ 1 52 ] The reply to this is: Corporeal things, in a sense. That is, things discrete in their essence and yet incorporeal with respect to being designated by a uni­ versal name -since universal names do not name them discretely and determinately but confusedly, as we explained well enough above [ 1 02 ] . [ 1 5 3] Thus universal names are called "corporeal" with respect to the nature of the things, and "incorpo­ real" with respect to the mode of signification. For al­ though they name what are discrete, yet they do not do so discretely and determinately. [ 1 54] �ow the third question [ 6]. whether univer­ sals are posited in sensibles, etc., is derived from their being granted as being incorporeal . For taken in a cer­ tain sense, 'incorporeal' is divided by being in a sensi­ ble and not being in a sensible, as we also remarked above [6]. [ 1 5 5 ] Universals are said to subsist in sensibles­ that is, to signify an intrinsic substance existing in a sensible thing on the basis of the thing's exterior forms. And although they signify the substance that actually subsists in a sensible thing, nevertheless they naturally indicate the same substance as separated from a sen­ sible thing, as we explained above in accordance with Plato [ 1 22 ] . [ 1 56] Thus Boethius says that genera and species are understood (he does not say exist) beyond sensi­ bles - that is, insofar as the realities of genera and species are rationally attended to in themselves with respect to their nature, beyond all sensibility. For they could truly subsist in themselves if the exterior forms through which they come to the senses were removed. For we grant that all genera or species inhere in sensi­ ble things. But because the understanding of them was always said to be apart from sensation [ 142], they seemed to be in no way in sensible things. Hence it was worth asking whether they could ever be in sensi-

bles. For some of them, the answer is that they do ex­ ist in sensibles, but in such a way that they naturally persist beyond sensibility, as has been said [ 1 22 ] . 39 [ 1 57] On the other hand, we can also take 'corpo­ real' and 'incorporeal' in the second question for "sen­ sible" and "insensible" ( 148], so that the order of the questions is more appropriate. Because the under­ standing of universals was said to be "alone apart from sensation," as was said [ 1 42] , it was right to ask [in question 2 ] whether they were sensible or insensible. The answer was that some of them are sensible with respect to the nature of the things, and that the same ones are insensible with respect to the mode of signi­ fying [ 1 5 3 ] . For they do not designate the sensible things they name in the same way they are sensed (that is, as discrete), and sensation does not find them by their being pointed out to it. Hence the question re­ mained whether universals appellated only the sensi­ bles themselves or also signified something else. [ 1 5 8] The reply to this is that they signify the sen­ sibles themselves and at the same time the common conception that Priscian ascribes especially to the di­ vine mind [ I l l ] . [ 1 59] "And agree with them." According to what we here understand as the fourth question, as we men­ tioned above [ 1 OJ, this is the answer: We say names are not universal at all when, with their subject things de­ stroyed, they are no longer predicable of several things. Indeed they are not then common to any things. For example, the name 'rose' when roses no longer exist. But even then the name is significative in virtue of the understanding, although it lacks naming. Otherwise the proposition 'There is no rose' would not exist. [ 1 60] Questions rightly arose about universal but not about singular words, because there was no such doubt about the signification of singular words. Their mode of signifying was surely quite in accordance with the status of things. Just as the things are discrete in themselves, so too they are signified discretely by sin­ gular terms. The understanding of singular terms grasps a fixed thing, which is not so for universal terms. [ 1 6 1 ] Furthermore, while universal terms do not signify things as discrete, they do not seem to signify

38. The sense of the paragraph is very obscure.

39. The paragraph is remarkably obscure.

Glosses on Porphyry them as agreeing either. For there is no thing in which they agree, as we also explained above [ 59-62]. [ 162] So because there was such a great doubt about universals, Porphyry chose to treat universals only, and excluded singulars from his purpose as if they were plain enough by themselves, even though he sometimes treats them in passing in the course of discussing other matters. [ 163] But note that even though the definition of a universal or a genus or species includes only words, nevertheless these names are often used figuratively for the corresponding things. For example, when some­ one says a species consists of genus and difference ­ that is, a thing in a species consists of a thing in a genus. For where the nature of words is being ex­ plained with respect to their signification, at one time the words are discussed and at another time the things, and the names of the former are often applied figura­ tively to the latter, and conversely. [ 1 64] Thus because the treatment both oflogic and of grammar was made extremely ambiguous because ofsuch a figurative use of names, this led many people into error. They were not rightly distinguishing be­ tween the correct imposition of names and their figu­ rative misuse. [ 1 65] More than anyone else, Boethius in his Com­ mentaries produces this confusion by figurative us­ ages, especially in his investigation of the above questions. So it seems right to ignore the question what he calls genera or species. ;\evertheless, let us quickly run through his questions and apply them as needed to the above theory. . [ 1 66] Here then in his investigation of these ques­ tions, in order to resolve the matter better, he first con­ fuses the issue by means of sophistical questions and arguments so that afterwards he may teach us how to escape from them. [ 1 67] He sets out such a great problem that all con­ cern for and investigation of genera and species has to be postponed because of it. It is as if he says that the words 'genera' and 'species' cannot be said to be what they seem, either with respect to the signification of things or with respect to the understanding. [ 1 68 ] He shows this for the signification of things, insofar as a universal thing, whether one thing or a multiple thing, is never found - that is, a thing predi-

20 I

cable of several, as he carefully explains and as we proved above. [ 1 69] First he proves that one thing is not a uni­ versal, and so is neither a genus nor a species. He says everything that is one is numerically one- that is, dis­ crete in its own essence. But genera and species, which have to be common to several things, cannot be numerically one, and so not one at all. [ 1 70] But because someone could say, contrary to the assumption, that genera and species are numeri­ cally "one" in such a way that the "one" is neverthe­ less common, Boethius takes that means of escape away from him when he says that everything numeri­ cally one but common is common either by pam, or as a whole by a succession in time, or else as a whole at the same time but in such a way that it does not con­ stitute the substances of what it is common to. He im­ mediately distinguishes all these ways of being common from genus and species when he says the lat­ ter are common in such a way that they are as a whole and at the same time in singular things and constitute their substance. Surely universal names are not par­ ticipated part by part by the different things they name. Rather they are, as wholes, in their entireties and at the same time, names of singulars. They can also be said to constitute the substances of what they are common to, insofar as they signify by a figurative usage things that constitute other things. For example 'animal' names a certain something in a horse and in a man that is their matter, or even the matter of the men who are inferior to the term 'animal.'40 Or else universal names are said to make up their substance insofar as they enter into a judgment about such things.41 Thus they are said to be "substantial" to them. Certainly 'man' denotes the whole that is an animal and rational and mortal.42 [ 1 7 1 ] After Boethius has shown that one thing is not universal, he proves this also about a multiple thing, 40. I do not know what this clause adds. \1en have al­ ready been accounted for earlier in the sentence. 4 1 . The only plausible antecedents here are 'horse' and 'man' a few lines above. 42. The overall sense of the paragraph is perhaps not to­ tally missing, but there are lots of obscurities in it.

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showing that neither is a multitude of discrete things a species or a genus. He demolishes the theory accord­ ing to which someone could say all substances col­ lected together are the genus substance, and all men the species man, as if to say: If we maintain every genus is a multitude of things that substantially agree, then on the other hand every such multitude will naturally have another one above it, and that one again will have another, and so on to infinity-which is inconsistent. [ 1 72 ] So it has been shown that universal names do not appear to be universals with respect to their signi­ fication of things -whether that signification is of one thing or of a multiple thing. For they signify no uni­ versal thing - that is, one predicable of several. [ 1 7 3 ] He goes on to argue that they should not be called "universals" with respect to the signification of the understanding either. He shows (sophistically) that this understanding is empty, because it regards the thing otherwise than it is, since this understanding is by way of abstraction. Both he and we have carefully

untied the knot of that sophism well enough above [ 1 28-- 1 29 ] . [ 1 74] But the other part o f the argument, b y which he showed that no thing is a universal, he did not think needed to be decided, because it was not so­ phistical. There he takes 'thing' in the sense of"thing, not in the sense of "word. " For a common word, al­ though it is so to speak essentially one thing in itself, nevertheless is "common" by naming in virtue of its appellating many things. It is predicable of several things according to this appellation, not according to its essence. [ 1 7 5 ] Yet the multitude of the things themselves is the cause of the universality of the name. For as we re­ marked above ( 1 59 ] , there is no universal that does not contain many things. But the universality a thing con­ fers on a word the thing does not have in itself. For surely the word does not have signification by virtue of the thing. And a name is judged to be appellative in accordance with the multitude of things, even though we do not say things signify or are appellative. "

1 7 . Ethics, or Know Thyself [Book I] : l : We call "morals" the mind's \·ices or virtues that make us disposed to bad or good deeds. �2J :\ot only are there the mind's vices or goods, but also the body's. For example, weakness of the body or the strength we call vigor, sluggardness or nimbleness, lameness or walking erect, blindness or sight. That is why when we said "vices" we prefixed the words "the mind's," in order to exclude such bodily vices. ::\ow these vices (that is, the mind's) are contrary to virtues. From Peter Abelard, Ethical Writings, tr. Paul Vincent Spade ( Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1 995). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

For example, injustice to justice, laziness to persever­ ance, immoderateness to moderation.

On \1ental Vice Relevant to \1orals [ 3 ] But there are also some vices or goods of the mind that are unconnected to morals and don't make a human life deserving of censure or praise. For exam­ ple, mental obtuseness or a quick wit, being forgetful or having a good memory, ignorance or knowledge. Since all these things turn up among reprobates and good people alike, they are irrelevant to the make-up of morals and don't make a life shameful or re­ spectable. Thus when we said "the mind's vices" above [ ( I ) ] , we were right to add, in order to exclude such

Ethics, or Know Thyself morally irrelevant vices, the words "that make us dis­ posed to bad deeds" - that is, they incline the will to som ething that isn't properly to be done or renounced at all.

What Difference Is There between a Sin and a Vice Inclining One to Evil? [ 4] This kind of mental vice isn't the same as a sin. And a sin isn't the same as a bad action. For instance, being hot-tempered - that is, disposed or easily given to the turmoil that is anger- is a vice. It inclines the mind to doing something impulsively and irrationally that isn't fit to be done at all. :\ow this vice is in the soul in such a way that the soul is easily given to get­ ting angry even when it isn't being moved to anger, just as the lameness whereby a person is called "lame" is in him even when he isn't limping around. For the vice is present even when the action is absent. [;j So also the body's very nature or structure makes many people prone to wantonness, just as it does to anger. But they don't sin by the fact that they are like this. Rather they get from it material for a fight, so that victorious over themselves through the virtue of moderation they might obtain a crown. Thus Solomon says, "lbe long-suffering man is better than the mighty man, and the one who rules his mind than the capturer of cities." For religion doesn't think it shameful to be defeated by a human being, but by a vice. The former surely happens to good people too, but in the latter we depart from goods. [6] In recommending this victory to us, the Apostle says, ":'\o one will be crowned unless he struggles ac­ cording to the Law." Struggles, I say, in resisting not people so much as vices, lest they drag us away to im­ proper consent. They don't stop assaulting us, even if people do stop, so that the vices' attack against us is more dangerous the more it is repeated, and victory is more glorious the more difficult it is. But no matter how much people influence us, they force nothing shameful on our life unless, having so to speak been turned into vices for us, they subject us to shameful consent the way vices do. There is no risk to true lib­ erty while others rule the body; we don't run into any abominable slavery as long as the mind is free. For it

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isn't shameful to serve a human being but to serve a vice, and it isn't bodily slavery that disfigures the soul but submission to vices. For whatever is common to good and bad people equally is irrelevant to virtue or vice.

\\!hat Is Mental Vice, and \\!hat Is Properly Called "Sin"? [7] So it is vice that makes us disposed to sin - that is, we are inclined to consent to what is inappropriate, so that we do it or renounce it. This consent is what we properly call "sin," the fault of the soul whereby it merits damnation or is held guilty before God. For what is this consent but scorn for God and an affront against him? God cannot be offended by injury but he can by scorn. For he is the ultimate power, not dimin­ ished by any injury but wreaking vengeance on scorn for him. [8] Thus our sin is scorn for the creator, and to sin is to scorn the creator- not to do for his sake what we believe we ought to do for his sake, or not to renounce for his sake what we believe ought to be renounced. And so when we define sin negatively, saying it is not doing or not renouncing what is appropriate, we show clearly that there is no substance to a sin; it consists of non-being rather than of being. It is as if we define shadows by saying they are the absence of light where light did have being. [9] But perhaps you will say that willing a bad deed is also a sin; it renders us guilty before God, just as will­ ing a good deed makes us just. As a result, in the same way as there is virtue in a good will so there is sin in a bad will, and there is sin not only in non-being but also in being, just as with virtue. 1 For just as by willing to do what we believe pleases God we do please him, so by willing to do what we believe displeases God we do displease him, and appear to affront or scorn him. [ I 0] But I say that if we look more closely, we have to view this matter quite otherwise than it appears. For

I . The point is that while some sins (e.g., sins of omis­ sion) are non-beings, others (e.g., certain acts of will) are beings.

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sometimes we sin without any bad will. And when a bad will is curbed without being extinguished, it wins the palm-branch of victory for those resisting it, and provides the material for a fight and a crown of glory. It shouldn't itself be called a "sin" but a kind of illness that is now necessary. [ 1 1 ] Look, here is some innocent person. His cruel master is so enraged with fury at him that with bared blade he hunts him down to kill him. The innocent man flees him for a long time, and avoids his own mur­ der as long as he can. Finally, under duress and against his will, he kills his master in order not to be killed by him. [ 1 2] Whoever you are, tell me what bad will he had in doing this deed ! If he wanted to flee death, he also wanted to save h is own life. But was this willing a bad one? [ 1 3] You will say: It isn't this will, I think, that is bad, but the will he had for killing the master who was hunting him down. [ 1 4] I reply: You speak well and ash1tely, if you can point to a will in what you are saying. But, as was al­ ready said [ 1 1 ] , it was against his will and under duress that he did what kept his life intact as long as possible. Also, he knew danger would threaten h is own life as a result of this slaying. How then did he willingly do what he did with this danger even to his own life? [ 1 5 ] If you reply that this too was done because of a willing, since obviously he was brought to this point by willing to escape death, not by willing to kill his master, we aren't contesting that. But as was already said, this willing isn't to be condemned as bad. As you say, through it he wanted to escape death, not to kill his master. Yet he did wrong in consenting (even though he was under duress from the fear of death) to an unjust slaying he should have borne rather than in­ flicted. He certainly took up the sword on his own; he didn't have it entrusted to him by some power. [ 1 6] Hence Truth says, "Everyone who takes up the sword will perish by the sword ." "Who," he says, "takes up the sword" out of presumptuousness, not someone to whom it was entrusted for the sake of administering punishment. "Will perish by the sword" - that is, brings upon h imself damnation and the slaying of his own soul by this foolhardiness. And so, as was said, he

wanted to escape death, not to kill his master. But be­ cause he consented to a killing he shouldn't have con­ sented to, h is unjust consent that preceded the killing was a sm. [ 1 7] �ow if perhaps someone says this person wanted to slay his master for the purpose of escaping death, he cannot without qualification infer from this that he wanted to kill him. It is as if I tell someone, "I want you to have my cap, for the purpose of your giving me fifty cents," or "I cheerfully want it to become yours for that price." I don't therefore grant that I want it to be yours. And if someone confined in jail wants to put his son there instead of himself, so that he might look for his own ransom, do we therefore grant without qualifi­ cation that he wants to send his son to jail - an event he is forced to accept, with great tears and many groans? [ 1 8] Surely a so called "willing" like this, one that consists of great mental sorrow, isn't to be called a "will­ ing" but instead a "suffering." To say he "wants" one thing because of another is like saying he tolerates what he doesn't want because of something else he does de­ sire. So too a sick person is said to "want" to be cauter­ ized or to be operated on in order to be cured. And the martyrs "wanted" to suffer in order to reach Christ, or Christ himself "wanted" to suffer that we might be saved by his suffering. But we aren't thereby forced to grant without qualification that they wanted this. For there cannot be a "suffering" at all except where some­ thing happens against one's will; no one "suffers" when he accomplishes his will and when what happens de­ lights him. Surely the Apostle who says, "I long to be dissolved and to be with Christ" -that is, to die in or­ der to reach him - elsewhere comments, "We do not want to be disrobed but to be clothed over, so that what is mortal be absorbed bv life." [ 1 9] Blessed Augustine also mentions this view, stated by the Lord where he says to Peter, ''You will hold out your hands, and someone else will gird you and lead you where you do not want to go." In accor­ dance with human nature's assumed2 infirmity, the

2. "Assumed" here and later in the paragraph is a tech­ nical term from the theology of the Incarnation, in which the second person of the Trinity, in addition to the divine

Ethics, or Know Thyself Lord als o says to the Father: "If it is possible, let this chali ce pass from me. Yet not as I will, but as you do." Surely his soul was naturally terrified at the great suf­ fering of his death, and what he knew would be a penalty couldn't be a matter of"willing" for him. Even

though elsewhere it is written about him, "He was of­ fered up because he himself willed it," either this has to be taken in accordance with the nature of divinity, 3

the will of which included the assumed man's suffer­ ing, or else "willed it" is here used in the sense of "arra nged it," in accordance with the Psalmist's state­

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guish it, so that we always have a will we might strive against.

[2 3 ] For what great deed do we do for God's sake if we don't put up with anything opposed to our willing but instead accomplish what we will? Indeed who thanks us if, in what we say we are doing for his sake, we are accomplishing our own will?

[24] Rather, you will say, what do we merit before God from what we do, either willingly or unwillingly? [25]

I reply: .\'othing, of course, since in giving out

rewards he takes account of the mind rather than the

ment, "He has done whatever he willed." [20] Hence it is plain that sin is sometimes com­

action. The action doesn't add anything to the merit,

mitted without any bad will at all, so that it is clear from this that willing isn't said to be what sin is.

show later on

[2 1 ] Of course, you will say, this holds where we sin under duress, but it doesn't hold where we sin will­ ingly. For example, if we want to commit some deed we know shouldn't be committed by us. In that case, surely, the bad willing and the sin appear to be the same. For example, someone sees a woman and falls into lust. His mind is stirred by the pleasure of the

whether it springs from good or bad willing, as we shall

[26]

[30, 3 5--48] .

But when we prefer his will to ours, s o that we

follow his rather than ours, we do obtain great merit before him, according to the perfection of Truth, "I did not come to do my will but his who sent me." I n encouraging u s to d o this, h e says " I f anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, indeed even his own soul, he is not worthy of me." That is, un­ less he refuses their suggestions or his own will and

flesh, with the result that he is set on fire for the shame­ fulness of sex. So, you say, what else is this willing and

submits himself entirely to my commands. Therefore,

shameful desire but sin?

too for our will; the order is that we not follow it, not

[22] I

reply: What if this willing is curbed by the

virtue of moderation but not extinguished, stays for the fight, holds out for the struggle, and doesn't give

if we are ordered to hate our father but not kill him, so that we destroy it entirely.

[27]

For he who says, "Do not pursue your lusts,

and turn away from your will," commanded us not to

up even when defeated? For where is the fight if the

satisfy our lusts, but not to do without them altogether.

material for the fight is absent? Where does the great

For satisfying them is wicked, but going without them is impossible in our feeble state. And so it isn't the lust­

reward come from if there is nothing serious we put up with? When the struggle has passed, there is no fighting left but only the receiving of the reward. We

ing after a woman but the consenting to the lust that is the sin. It isn't the will to have sex with her that is

struggle by fighting here in order that, triumphant in the struggle, we might receive a crown elsewhere. But

damnable but the will's consent.

to have a fight it's proper to have an enemy who resists,

said about wantonness. Someone is going by another

not one who gives up altogether. .\'ow this enemy is

our bad will, the one we triumph over when we sub­ ject it to the divine will. But we don't entirely extin-

[28]

Let's look at gluttony with respect to what we

person's garden and on seeing the delicious fruits falls to craving them. But he doesn't consent to his craving so that he takes something away from there by theft or plunder, although his mind has been inflamed to a

nature it already had, "assumed" - that is, took on -a hu­ man nature in becoming the man Jesus.

3. That is, the "willing" refers to the divine will in Jesus,

not his human will.

great desire by the deliciousness of the food . .\'ow where there is desire, no doubt there is will. So he de­ sires to eat the other person's fruit, and he doesn't doubt there is pleasure in eating it. Indeed he is driven by the very nature of his feeble state to desire what he

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may not take without its owner's knowledge and per­ mission. He curbs his desire; he doesn't destroy it. But because he isn't drawn into consent, he doesn't fall into sin. [ 29] What is the point of this? In brief, to make it clear that in such cases too the sin isn't said to be the willing itself or the desire to do what isn't allowed, but rather the consent, as we said [7]. Now we consent to what isn't allowed when we don't draw back from committing it and are wholly ready to carry it out should the opportunity arise. [ 30] So whoever is found in this condition has in­ curred complete guilt. Adding on the performance of the deed doesn't add anything to increase the sin. In­ stead, for God, someone who tries as hard as he can to go through with it is just as guilty as one who does go through with it insofar as he is able. It is just as if he too had been apprehended i n the very deed, as blessed Augustine remarks. [ 3 1 ] But although the willing isn't the sin and sometimes we even commit sins against our will, as we said [ I I , 1 4] , nevertheless some people say every sin is "voluntary." In so doing they find a kind of difference between the sin and the willing. For one thing is called the "will," and another thing is called "voluntary"; that is, the will is other than what is committed by the will. But if we call a sin what we have said above is properly called a sin [7-8] - namely scorn for God, consenting to what we believe should be renounced for his sake­ then how do we say the sin is "voluntary"? That is, how do we say we want to scorn God (which is what sin­ ning is), or to grow worse or to be made deserving of damnation' For although we might want to do what we know ought to be punished, or that whereby we might be deserving of punishment, nevertheless we don't want to be punished. In this respect we are plainly being unfair, because we want to do what is un­ fair but don't want to yield to the fairness4 of a penalty that is just. The penalty, which is just, displeases; the action, which is unjust, pleases.

4. There is a wordplay here that is hard to translate satis­ factorily. lniquum wicked, but etymologically un­ equal, hence unjust, unfair. It is therefore opposed to aequitas equality, hence equity, justices, fairness. =

=

=

[32] Often too it comes about that although, at­ tracted by her appearance, we want to have sex with someone we know is married, nevertheless we would­ n't want to commit adultery with her; we would want her not to be married. Conversely, there are many who for the sake of their own fame yearn more for the wives of powerful men, because they are the wives of such men, than they would if the same women were un­ married. They are more eager to commit adultery than fornication, to deviate more rather than less. [ 3 3] There are also people who entirely regret be­ ing drawn into consenting to lust or into an evil will, and are compelled by the flesh's weakness to want what they don't want to want at all. [34] Therefore, I really don't see how this consent that we don't want is going to be called "voluntary" so that, following some people as was said [ 3 1 ] , we call every sin "voluntary" -unless we understand the "vol­ untary" as merely excluding the necessary (since no sin is inevitable), or call the "voluntary" whatever arises from some will (for although he who killed his master under duress didn't have a will for killing, nev­ ertheless he committed it from some will, since he wanted to escape or put off death ) . [ 3 5 ] Some people may b e more than a little upset because they hear us say [30] that doing the sin does­ n't add anything to the guilt or to the damnation be­ fore God. For they object that in acting out a sin there follows a kind of pleasure that increases the sin, as in sex or in the eating we talked about [28]. [ 36] It wouldn't be absurd of them to say this, if they proved that this kind of bodily pleasure is a sin and that no one can commit anything like that without sinning. If they actually accept that, then surely it is illicit for anyone to have this bodily pleasure. Hence not even married couples are exempt from sin when they are brought together by this bodily pleasure that is per­ mitted to them, and neither is one who enjoys a deli­ cious meal of his own fruit. All sick people too would be at fault who favor sweeter foods for refreshment, in order to recuperate from their illness. They surely don't take these foods without pleasure; otherwise if they took them they wouldn't help. [ 37] Finally, even the Lord, the creator of foods as well as of our bodies, wouldn't be without fault if he inserted into those foods flavors such as would neces-

Ethics, or Know Thyself sarily force those who eat them into sin by their pleas­ ure in them. For why would he make such foods for our eating, or permit us to eat them, if it were impos­ sible for us to eat them without sin? And how can sin be said to be committed in doing what is permittee? [38] For if what were at one time illegal and pro­ hibited deeds are later permitted and so legalized, they are committed now without any sin at all. For exam­ ple, eating the flesh of pigs and many other actions once prohibited to the Jews but now permitted to us. So when we see even Je.,.;s who have been converted to Christ freely eating the kinds of foods the Law had proh ibited, how do we defend them as without fault except by maintaining that this is now permitted to them by God? [39] Hence if in such eating, formerly prohibited to them but now permitted, the permission itself ex­ cuses the sin and takes away scorn for God, who can say anyone sins in doing what divine permission has made legal for him? Therefore, ifhaving sex with one's wife or eating delicious food has been permitted to us from the fi rst day of our creation, which was lived with­ out sin in paradise, who will argue that we have sinned if we don't go beyond the bounds of permission? [40] But again, they say sex in marriage and the eat­ ing of delicious food are only permitted in such a way that the pleasure itself is not permitted. Rather, they should be done entirely without pleasure. But surely if this is so, then they were permitted to be done in a way such that they cannot be done at all. An authorization that permitted their being done in a way that they cer­ tainly cannot be done is unreasonable. [4 1 ] Furthermore, why did the Law at one time urge marriage so that each one would leave behind his seed in Israel, or why did the Apostle require married couples to fulfill their duty to one another, if these things cannot be done without sin? Why does he talk about "duty" here, where already there is necessarily sin? How is anyone supposed to be required to do what will offend God by sinning? [42] In my judgment, it is plain from these consid­ erations that no natural bodily pleasure is to be counted as a sin. It isn't to be regarded as a fault that we take pleasure in what is such that, when it has occurred, pleasure is necessarily felt. For example, if someone forces someone in religious orders, bound by chains, to

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lie among women, and he is led into pleasure - but not into consent- by the bed's softness and the touch of the women around him, who can venture to call this pleasure nature has made necessary a "sin"? [43 ] :\'ow suppose you object that, as it appears to some people, even bodily pleasure in lawful sex is re­ garded as a sin. For David says, "For behold, I was con­ ceived in iniquities." And when the Apostle said, "Come back together again, that Satan not tempt you because of your lack of self-restraint," he adds, "Now I say this as an indulgence, not as a commandment." These texts seem to bind us, more by authority than by reason, to grant that bodily pleasure is itself a sin. For it is well known that David wasn't conceived in for­ nication but in marriage. And indulgence - that is, forgiving, as they say- doesn't occur where fault is completely missing. [ 44] But as far as appears to me, the fact that David says he had been conceived in iniquities, or "sins," and didn't specifY whose, refers to the general curse of orig­ inal sin, the sin whereby everyone is made subject to damnation by the fault of his own parents. This ac­ cords with what is written elsewhere, ":\'o one is clean of stain if his life is on earth, not even the day-ld in­ fant." For as blessed Jerome has remarked, and as plain reason has it, the soul lacks sin as long as it is in in­ fancy. Therefore, if it is clean of sin, how is it unclean with the stain of sin, unless it's because the former is to be understood with respect to fault, the latter with respect to punishment? [ 45] Surely one who doesn't yet perceive by reason what he ought to do doesn't have any fault because of scorn for God. Yet he isn't immune to the stain of his earlier parents' sin, from which he already incurs pun­ ishment even if not fault; he preserves in his punish­ ment what they committed in their fault. Thus when David says he was conceived in iniquities or sins, he perceived that he was subject to the general pro­ nouncement of damnation from the fault of his par­ ents. And he referred these offenses not so much to his immediate parents as to earlier ones. [ 46] :\ow what the Apostle called "indulging" isn't to be taken, as they wish it to be, in the sense that he called forgiving a sin "indulging" in the sense of "allowing." Surely his expression, "as an authoriza­ tion, not as compulsory," is as if he had said "by way of

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allowing, not by coercing." For if a married couple wishes, and they have decided by mutual consent, they can completely abstain from carnal practice; they are not to be forced into it by a commandment. But if they haven't decided this, they have the "indulgence" - that is, they are allowed -to turn away from the more perfect life to the practice of a more lenient life. Therefore, the Apostle in this passage didn't under­ stand "indulging" as forgiving a sin, but as the au­ thorization of a more lenient life in order to avoid fornication, with the result that the inferior life would prevent a great amount of sin, and is less in merits so that it not become greater in sins. [47] We have brought up these matters so that no one, perhaps wanting every pleasure of the flesh to be a sin, would say that sin itself is increased by the ac­ tion when one extends the mind's consent to the point of performing the deed, so that one is defiled not only by consent to shamefulness but also by the stains of the act. As if what occurred outside in the body could de­ file the soul! [48] Therefore, any kind of carrying out of deeds is irrelevant to increasing a sin. :\othing taints the soul but what belongs to it, namely the consent that we've said is alone the sin, not the will preceding it or the sub­ sequent doing of the deed. For even if we want or do what is improper, we don't thereby sin, since these things frequently occur without sin, just as, conversely, consent occurs without these things. We have already shown this in part: the point about the will without con­ sent, in the example of the man who fell into lust for a woman he saw, or for someone else's fruit, yet wasn't enticed to consent [ 2 1-281; the point about bad con­ sent without a bad will, in the example of the person who killed his master unwillingly [ 1 1 - 1 7 ] . [49] '\ow a s for things that ought not to b e done, I don't think it escapes anyone how often they are done without sin, for example when they are committed through force or ignorance. For instance, if a woman subjected to force has sex with someone else's hus­ band, or if a man somehow deceived sleeps with a woman he thought was his wife, or if by mistake he kills someone he bel ieved should be killed by him in his role as a judge. So it isn't a sin to lust after some­ one else's wife, or to have sex with her; the sin is rather to consent to this lust or to this action.

[ 50] Indeed the Law calls this consent to lust "lust" when it says, "Thou shalt not lust."' For it isn't the lust­ ing that had to be prohibited (which we cannot avoid and wherein we do not sin, as was said [ 27] ), but rather the assent to it. The Lord's words too, "He who shall look at a woman in order to lust after her," have to be understood in this way: he who shall look at her in or­ der to fall into consent to lust "has already committed adultery in his heart," even if he hasn't committed adultery in deed. That is, he already has the guilt for the sin, even if he is still lacking the performance of it. [ 5 1 ] If we look carefully, wherever deeds appear to be included under a command or prohibition, they are to be referred more to the will6 or the consent to the deeds than to the deeds themselves. Othern:ise, nothing relevant to merit would come under the scope of a command. For things less in our power are less worth commanding. There are surely many things we are prevented from doing, but we always have will and consent within our power of choosing. [ 52] Look, the Lord says "Thou shalt not kill," "Thou shalt not bear false witness." If we take these at face value, as being only about the deed, guilt isn't pro­ scribed at all. '\either is fault prohibited, but only the action associated with the fault. For it isn't a sin to kill a human being or to have sex with someone else's wife. These acts can be committed sometimes without sin. If this kind of prohibition is taken at face value, as be­ ing about the deed, then he who wants to bear false witness, or even he who consents to saying it, as long as he doesn't say it and keeps quiet for whatever reason, doesn't become guilty before the Law. For it wasn't stated that we should not want to bear false witness, or not agree to bearing it, but only that we should not bear it. [ 5 3 ] Or again, when the Law forbids us from tak­ ing our sisters in marriage, or from joining together with them, there is no one who can keep this com-

5. Lust concupisces. The usual translation here is "covet," which is broader than sexual lust. But Abelard has hitherto been using the word in primarily sexual contexts. 6. The occurrence of this word here is surprising. Abelard has been at pains to distinguish the will from the consent to it. =

Ethics, or Know Thyself mandment, since often someone cannot recognize his sisters - no one, I say, if the prohibition is made with respect to the act rather than to the consent. So when someone out of ignorance accidentally takes his sister in marriage, does he break the commandment be­ cause he does what the Law forbade him to do? [54] You will say he doesn't break it, because he didn't consent to breaking it insofar as he acted un­ knowingly. Therefore, just as he who does what is for­ bidden isn't to be called a lawbreaker, but rather he who consents to what is agreed to be forbidden, so nei­ ther is the prohibition to be taken with respect to the deed, but with respect to the consent. Thus, when it says "Do not do this or that," it's like saying "Do not consen t to doing this or that" - as if it said "Do not knowingly venture to do this." [ 5 5 ] Blessed Augustine too thought about this closely and reduced every command or prohibition to charity or greed rather than to deeds. He says, "The Law commands nothing but charity, and forbids noth­ ing but greed ." Hence too the Apostle says, "All the law is fulfilled in one statement: You shall love your neigh­ bor as yourself" And again, "The fulfillment of the Law is love." [ 56] Surely it has no bearing on merit whether you give alms to one in need. Charity may make you pre­ pared to give alms and your will may be ready, al­ though the means are absent and the power to do so doesn't remain in you, no matter what chance event it is that impedes you. Surely it is plain that deeds ap­ propriately done or not are equally carried out by good people as by bad. The intention alone separates the two cases. [ 5 7 ] Indeed, as the aforesaid Doctor� remarks, in the same deed in which we see God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, we also see Judas the traitor. When the Father handed over the Son and the Son handed himself over, as the Apostle mentions, and Ju­ das handed over his master, certainly the handing over of the Son was done by God the Father; it was also done by the Son, and it was done by the traitor. There-

7. "Doctor" literally means "teacher." Here Abelard is re­ ferring to Augustine (see 5 5), who was often referred to as one of the "Doctors of the Church."

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fore, the traitor did what God did too. But did he do

well to do it? For even if it was good, it was not at any rate done well, or something that ought to have been beneficial to him. For God doesn't think about the things that are done but rather in what mind they are done. The merit or praiseworthiness of the doer does­ n't consist in the deed but in the intention. [ 58] Often in fact the same thing is done by differ­ ent people, through the justice of one and the vi­ ciousness of the other. For example, if two people hang a criminal, one out of a zeal for justice and the other out of hatred springing from an old feud, then although the hanging is the same action, and although they certainly do what is good to be done8 and what justice demands, nevertheless through the difference in their intention the same thing is done by different people, one badly and the other welL [ 59] Finally, who doesn't know that the Devil him­ self does nothing but what he is permitted to do by God, when he either punishes an unjust person de­ servedly or else is allowed to affiict a just person, either to purify him or else to offer an example of patience? But because it is at the instigation of his own vicious­ ness that he does what God permits him to do, his power is said to be good or even just, while his will is always unjust. The former he gets from God; the lat­ ter he has from himself [ 60] Also, who among the elect can be the equal of the h�pocrites in matters pertaining to deeds? Who puts up with or does so many things from the love of God as they do from greed for human praise? Finally, who doesn't know that sometimes things God forbids to be done are rightly performed anyway, or should be done, just as sometimes, contrariwise, he commands some things that nevertheless aren't fit to be done? For look, we know that when he was curing illnesses, some of his miracles he forbade to be revealed, as an exam­ ple of humility, so that no one would crave fame from perhaps having a similar grace bestowed on himself Yet nonetheless, those who received the benefits didn't

8. The construction is awkward in English, but Abelard is carefully avoiding the active voice here; he conspicu­ ously does not say it is "good to do it." So too in [ 6 1 ]-[62], [65]-[66].

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stop publicizing them for the honor of him who both did them and forbade their being revealed. It is written of those people, "As much as he commanded them not to tell, so much more did they proclaim it," etc. [6 1 ] Will you judge such people guilty of breaking the law? They acted contrary to the command they re­ ceived, and even did so knowingly. What will excuse them from lawbreaking except the fact that nothing they decided to do to honor the one who gave the com­ mand did they do out of scorn for him? Tell me, please, did Christ command what should not have been commanded? Or did they reject a command that should have been kept? What wasn't good to be done was nevertheless good to be commanded. [62] ::--; o doubt you'll find fault with the Lord even in the case of Abraham. He first commanded Abra­ ham to sacrifice his son, but afterwards prevented it himself. Did God not do well to command to be done what wasn't good to be done? For if it was good, why was it forbidden later on? But if the same thing was both good to be commanded and good to be forbid­ den ( for God neither permits anything to happen nor consents to do it without reasonable cause), you see that only the intention of the commandment excuses God, not the doing of the deed. He did well to com­ mand what wasn't good to be done. For God didn't in­ tend this or command it to be done in order that Abraham would really sacrifice his son, but in order that his obedience and the steadfastness of his faith or of his love for him might be sorely tried and left as an example to us. [ 63] Surely the Lord himself plainly acknowledged this later on, when he said, "I have recognized now that you fear the Lord" - as if he had said openly, "What you have shown yourself prepared to do, this I commanded of you, so that I might make others know what I myself had known about you before the ages." ( 64] Thus, this intention of God's was right, in the case of a deed that was not right. So too his prohibi­ tion was right in the matters we mentioned [60]. He forbade them not in order that the prohibition be ob­ served but i n order that examples of shunning empty glory might be given to us invalids. [65] So God commanded what wasn't good to be done, just as conversely he forbade what was good to be done. And as in the former case [62] the intention

excuses him, so too in the latter [60] it excuses those who didn't fulfill the commandment in deed. They surely knew he hadn't commanded it for the sake of the commandment's being kept, but in order that the abovementioned example be set out. Keeping the will of the order-giver, they didn't scorn him whose will they understood they weren't going against. [ 66] Therefore, if we think of deeds rather than of the intention, we will see not only that sometimes one wills something to be done contrary to God's com­ mand, but even that it is done, and done knowingly, without any of the guilt belonging to sin. When the in­ tention of the one to whom the command is given doesn't depart from the will of the command-giver, the will or the action isn't to be called "bad" just because it doesn't keep God's command in deed. For just as the intention of the order-giver excuses him who com­ mands to be done what nevertheless isn't fit to be done, so too the intention of charity excuses him to whom the command is given. [67] To gather all that has been said into one short conclusion, there are four things we have set out above in order that we might carefully distinguish them from one another: (a) the mental vice that makes us dis­ posed to sin [ 2-7] ; after that (b) the sin itself, which we have located in consent to evil or in scorn for God [8]; then (c) the will for evil [9-34]; and (d) the doing of the evil [ 3 5--66 ] . :\ow just as willing isn't the same as accomplishing the will, so sinning isn't the same as carrying out the sin. The former is to be taken as the mind's consent by which we sin, the latter as the result of the doing, when we accomplish in deed what we have consented to earlier. [68] Thus, when we say sin or temptation comes about in three ways - by suggestion, pleasure and con­ sent- it is to be understood that we are often seduced into doing sin by these three things, as happened with our first parents. For the Devil's persuading came first, when he promised immortality would come from tast­ ing of the forbidden tree. Pleasure followed when the woman, seeing the fine wood and understanding it was sweet to eat,9 was set on fire with a craving for it

9. Presumably Eve thought it would be sweet to eat the fruit, not the wood.

Ethics, or Know Thyself by the pleasure she believed she would take from the fuod. Although to keep the commandment she should have curbed her craving, she was drawn into sin by her consenting to it. And while she should have corrected the sin by repenting, to merit forgiveness, in the end she brought it to completion in her deed. And so she progressed in three phases to performing the sin. [69] So too we often reach the point, not of sinning but of performing the sin, by these same steps: {a) by suggestion, at the instigation ofsomeone who urges us from outside to do something improper. But if we know it is pleasurable to do it, then (b) even before it is done our mind is carried away by the pleasure of the deed, and in the thought itself we are tempted by pleasure. When (c) we approve of this pleasure by con­ sent, we sin. By these three steps, we finally reach the point of performing the sin. [70J There are some people who want the sugges­ tion of the flesh, even if a suggesting person is absent, to be included under the name "suggestion." For ex­ ample when a woman is seen, if someone falls into lust fur her. But actually, it seems that this "suggestion" ought to be called nothing but pleasure. In fact this pleasure, which comes about necessarily so to speak, and others l ike it that we remarked above [42] are not a sin, the Apostle calls "human temptation" when he says: "Let temptation not grab hold of you, unless it is human temptation. :\ow God is faithfuL He will not allow you to be tempted more than you are able to bear. Rather along with the temptation he will also make a way out for you, so that you can withstand it." [7 1 ] :\ow temptation in general is said to be any in­ clination of the mind to doing something improper, whether that inclination is a will or a consent. But a temptation without which human frailty is now 1 0 hardly or never able to go on is called "human." For example, carnal lust or desiring delicious food. The one who said, "Release me from my needs, Lord" asked to be freed from them - that is, from these temp­ tations of lusts that now come about so to speak natu­ rally and necessarily, so that they not draw me into consent, or so that I will lack them entirely when this life full of temptations is over.

10. That is, now after the Fall of Adam.

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[72] Therefore, the Apostle's statement, "Let temp­ tation not grab hold of you, unless it is a human temp­ tation," is much like saying, "If the mind is inclined by a pleasure that is a 'human' temptation, as we have called it, let it not lead the mind as far as the consent sin consists of." He says, as if someone had asked what power of ours enables us to resist these lusts: "God is faithful. He will not allow you to be tempted." It is as if he had said, "Rather than trusting in ourselves, we should place our confidence in him who promises us aid and is truthful in all his promises." This is what it is for him to be faithful, so that faith i n him is to be ex­ tended in all matters. If we do this, he doesn't allow us to be tempted more than we are able to bear, since he so tempers this human temptation with his mercy that it doesn't pressure us into sin more than we can en­ dure by resisting it. [73 J But more than that, he then turns this temp­ tation itself into an opportunity for us, when he exer­ cises us by it so that thereafter it can be less hard on us when it occurs, and so that even now we may fear less the assault of an enemy we have already conquered and know how to endure. Surely, every fight we haven't yet been through is harder to withstand and is feared more. But when it comes to be routine for the victors, its strength and terror alike disappear. . . .

Why God Is Called the Examiner of the Heart and Reins [85] Therefore, God has been called the "tester of the heart and reins"-that is, the examiner of the in­ tentions or consents stemming from there - with re­ spect to the two things we've just mentioned: lust of the flesh and lust of the soul. But we, who aren't in a posi­ tion to discriminate or decide this, tum our judgment mostly to the deeds. We don't punish the faults so much as the deeds, and are eager to punish not so much what it is in someone that injures his soul as what can injure others, so that we prevent public damages more than correcting individual ones, according to what the Lord said to Peter, "If your brother shall sin against you, reproach him between you and him only." [ 86] What is "shall sin against you"? Is it, so to speak, "not against someone else," so that we ought to

ZIZ

Peter Abelard, 1 079-1 1 42

correct or punish harms inflicted on us more than on others? Far from it. "If he shall sin against you," the Lord says, as when your brother openly does some­ thing whereby he can corrupt you by example. For he sins in himself alone, so to speak, when his hidden fault makes him alone guilty and does not in itself draw others into guilt by example. In fact even if there are no people who imitate his action or even know about it, nevertheless the action itself more than the mind's fault should be rebuked before people, be­ cause it was able to make the greater and more ruinous offense come about by example than could a fault ly­ ing hidden in the mind. For everything that can con­ tribute to common ruin or to public disadvantage is to be punished with the greater rebuke. What causes greater offense deserves a heavier penalty among us, and the greater scandal for people incurs the greater punishment among people- even if a slighter fault preceded it. [ 87] Indeed, let us assume someone has corrupted a woman by having sex with her in a church. When it has been brought to the ears of the people, they are up­ set not so much by the violation of the woman, a true temple of God, as by the breach of the corporeal tem­ ple, even though it is more serious to exploit a woman than mere walls and to bring harm to a human being than to a place. Yet we punish house-burnings with a greater penalty than we do for carrying out fornication, when before God the latter is regarded as much more serious than the former. [88] These things are done not so much out of duty to justice as out of the proper balance needed for its administration, so that, as we said, in preventing pub­ lic injuries we have regard for general expediency. Hence we often punish the least sins with greater penalties, not paying so much attention with the fair­ ness of justice to what fault preceded as thinking with the discretion of foresight how great a disadvantage can come from them if they are punished mildly. So, saving the mind's faults for divine judgment, with our own judgment we pursue their results, which are ours to judge. In such cases we pay more attention to ad­ ministering-that is, to the standpoint of foresight we mentioned - than to pure fairness. [89] But God arranges everyone's penalty accord­ ing to the extent of the fault. Those who scorn h im

equally are punished afterwards with an equal penalty, no matter what their circumstances or profession. For if a monk and a layman come to consent equally to for­ nication, and in addition the mind of the layman is so on fire that if he were a monk, he wouldn't out of rev­ erence for God refrain from this shamefulness either, then he deserves the same penalty as the monk does. [90] This is what should be maintained too in the case of two persons, one of whom, sinning openly, scandalizes many people and corrupts them by his ex­ ample, while the other, since he sins secretly, harms himself alone. For if he who sins secretly has the same purpose as the other, and the same scorn for God, so that the fact that he doesn't corrupt others comes about more by chance than by his giving up some­ thing for God's sake (he doesn't restrain himself for God's sake), 1 1 then he is surely bound by an equal guilt before God. Indeed God pays attention only to the mind in rewarding good or evil, not to the results of the deeds. He doesn't think about what arises from our fault or from our good will, but judges the mind itself in its intention's purpose, not in the result of the outward deed. In fact deeds, which we said above [ 6 J are equally common to reprobates and to the elect, are in themselves all indifferent. They are not to be called good or bad, except according to the intention of the doer- that is to say, not because it is good or bad for them to be done, but because they are well or badly done, that is, done with the intention whereby they are done properly, or not. For, as blessed Augustine re­ marks, it is good for evil to exist, since God uses even it well, and doesn't permit it to exist otherwise, al­ though nevertheless it itself isn't good at all. [91 j So when we call a person's intention good and his deed good, we are distinguishing two things, the in­ tention and the deed, but we are talking about one goodness - that of the intention. For example, if we say "good person" and "good person's son," we repre­ sent two people, certainly, but not two goodnesses. "Therefore, just as (a) a person is called good from his own goodness, but when "good person's son" is said,

I I . The passage from "so that" to the end of the paren­ theses is very obscure and syntactically awkward in the Latin. \1y translation is conjectural.

Ethics, or Know Thyself the son isn't thereby shown to have anything good in him, so too (b) one's intention is called good in itself, but his deed isn't called good from itself, but rather be­ cause it proceeds from a good intention. So the good­ ness whereby both the intention and the doing are called good is one, just as there is one goodness by which a good person and a good person's son are so called, or one goodness by which a good person and a person's good will are so called. [92] So let those accustomed to object that acting on an intention is worth rewarding too, or brings about some increase in the reward, realize that their objec­ tion is futile. Two things are good, they say, the good intention and the result arising from the good inten­ tion. And good conjoined to good ought to be worth something more than each of them alone. [93] I reply to them that if we assume the whole to be worth more than each of its parts, are we for that reason forced to grant that it is worth a greater reward? Certainly not. For there are many things, both ani­ mate and inanimate, such that a group of them is use­ ful for more things than is each one of the things included in that group. For look, an ox joined with an­ other ox or with a horse, or a piece of wood joined with a piece of wood or with iron, is surely a good thing. And the grouping of them is worth more than each of the parts, although the combination doesn't have any more reward. [94] That's so in fact, you will say, because they aren't such that they can deserve merit, since they are lacking in reason. [95 J But does our deed have reason so that it can deserve merit? [96] :\ot at all, you will say. But yet the deed is said to deserve merit because it makes us deserve merit­ that is, be worthy of reward, or at least of a greater one. [97] But surely we've denied that above [ 56]. And in addition to what we've said, understand why it is to be denied: There are two people with the same plan of building homes for the poor. One of them accom­ plishes the performance of his devotion. But the other has the money he's prepared stolen from him violently and isn't allowed to finish what he proposed, being prevented by no fault of his own but hindered only by that violence. Could what is enacted externally lessen his merit before God7 Or could another person's mal-

213

ice make him who did as much as he could for God's sake less acceptable to God? [98] If these things could be so, a large amount of money could make anyone better and more worthy­ that is, if it itself could bring about merit or an increase of merit. People could become better the richer they were, since out of the bountifulness of their riches they could add more in deeds to their devotion. [99] But to think this, that wealth is able to con­ tribute something to true happiness or to the soul's worthiness, or to remove something from the merits of the poor, is sheer craziness. If however the possession of things cannot bring about a better soul, surely it cannot make it dearer to God or earn anything of merit in happiness.

On the Reward for External Deeds [ I 00] :\evertheless, we aren't denying that in this life something is awarded for these good or bad deeds, in order that we may be further encouraged to good deeds or kept from bad ones by present repayment as profit or penalty, and in order that some people should take their examples from others in doing things that are proper or shunning those that are improper. . . .

That a Deed Is Good by Means of a Good Intention [ 1 06] Indeed we call an intention good (that is, right) in itself. We don't however say that a "doing" takes on any good in itself, but that it proceeds from a good intention. Hence even if the same thing is done by the same person at different times, nevertheless be­ cause of the diversity of the intention, his doing it is called now good, now bad. So it appears to shift be­ tween good and bad, just as the proposition "Socrates is sitting" (or the understanding of it) shifts between true and false according as Socrates is now sitting, now standing. Aristotle says this alteration, the shift be­ tween true and false, occurs in these cases not in such a way that the things that shift between true and false take on anything in their changing, but rather that the subject thing, namely, Socrates, is in himself moved from sitting to standing or conversely.

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Peter Abelard, 1 079-1 1 42

On What Basis Should an Intention Be Called Good? [ 1 07] �ow there are people who suppose an in­ tention is good or right whenever someone believes that he is acting well and that what he is doing pleases God. For instance, even those who persecuted the martyrs, about whom Truth says in the Gospel, "The hour is coming when everyone who slays you will sup­ pose he is offering obedience to God." In fact, the Apostle pities such people's ignorance when he says, "I testify for them that they have an ardor for God, but not one in accordance with knowledge." That is, they have a great fervor and desire to do what they believe pleases God . But because they are deceived in this zeal or eagerness of the mind, their intention is mis­ taken and their heart's eye is not simple in such a way that it could see clearly- that is, keep itself from error.

[ 1 08] So when the Lord distinguished deeds ac­ cording to whether their intention is right or not right, he was careful to call the mind's eye (that is, its inten­ tion) "simple" and so to speak pure of dirt so it can see clearly, or conversely "cloudy." He said, "If your eye is simple, your whole body will be shining." That is, if the intention is right, the whole mass of deeds arising from it-which, like corporeal things, can be seen­ will be worthy of light, that is, will be good. So too the other way around. [ 1 09] Thus an intention isn't to be called good be­ cause it appears good, but more than that, because it is such as it is considered to be -that is, when if one believes that what he is aiming at is pleasing to God, he is in addition not deceived in his evaluation. Other­ wise the infidels themselves would also have good deeds, just as we do, since they too believe no less than we do that through their deeds they are saved or are pleasing to God .

ISLAMIC PHILOSOPHY

Islam, like Judaism and Christianity, is a religion of a Book and a Tradition, though it is closer to Judaism in that it is primarily a religion of law. The Book on which Islam rests is the Qur'an, the sunnah (literally, custom), the Tradition. Containing narratives, admo­ nitions, doctrines, and moral and ritual precepts, the Qur'an (according to \tluslim belief) is the Word of God, revealed to \tlohammed, the last and most im­ portant of a series of prophets and apostles that, be­ ginning with Adam, includes Abraham, \tloses, and Jesus. Of Qur'anic doctrines, the absolute unity of God and the mission of \tlohammed are the most ba­ sic. The sunnah consists of brief stories recounting deeds and utterances of\tlohammed that have as their purpose legal and doctrinal instruction supplemen­ tary to that contained in the Qur'an. The individual story is called a hadfth (narrative), but this term is also applied to the sunnah as a whole. Qur'an and sunnah provide the basis for fiqh, the science of jurisprudence, and for sharf'ah, the Law by which Muslims govern their day-to-day life. Whereas Judaism and Christianity began as reli­ gions ofsmall groups, Islam, almost from its beginnings, developed as the religion of an expanding empire. :'vto­ hammed died in A. D. 632 and in less than a hundred years, military conquests had expanded the Islamic world from India in the East, through :-..'orth Africa, to

Spain in the West. These expansions brought a variety of religious and intellectual communities under :'vi us­ lim rule and as a result Islam was confronted by the the-­ ologies of Judaism, Christianity, and Zoroastrianism; by Indian thought; and by Greek and Hellenistic learn­ ing. Theology, apologetics, and philosophy began to flourish. The encounter of Islamic religion and Greek philosophy produced Islamic philosophy, which R. H . Walzer1 has felicitously described as a "productive assimilation" of Greek thought by open-minded and far-sighted representatives of a very different tradition and thus a serious at­ tempt to make this foreign element an integral part of Islamic tradition. \tluslims now used philosophical concepts and argu­ ments for the interpretation of Qur'anic doctrines; they preserved, commented on, criticized and devel­ oped the teachings of Plato, Aristotle, .:\eoplatonists, and others; and in general, they inquired about the relation of Islamic doctrines to Greek philosophical notions. Central to the development of Islamic philosophy were the Arabic translations of works originally written I . Greek into Arabic, Oxford, 1 962, p. I I . 215

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in Greek. Eastern Christians had preserved the Greek philosophical and scientific traditions, and at the time of the :\.1uslim conquests there were centers of Greek learning in :\.1esopotamia, Syria, and Egypt. The trans­ lators, most of whom were 0-'estorian and Jacobite Christians, began their activities during the early Ab­ basid period (c.800), and they continued for about two hundred years. Though some of these translations were made directly from the Greek, most of them passed through an intermediate Syriac version. After some pioneering efforts that proved to be sporadic and not completely satisfactory, the translators hit their stride under al-:\.1a'mun (reigned 8 1 3-83 3 ) and his successors al-:\.1u'ta�im (reigned 8 3 3-842) and al­ Mutawakkil (reigned 847-86 1 ) . In 830, al-\1a'mun established the "House of Wisdom" (Bayt al-Hikmah) consisting of a library and an academy, and housing a staff of translators. The most important translators of this period were I:Iunayn ibn Isbaq (809-873 ) and his son Isbaq. I:Iunayn, who knew Greek, carefully col­ lected manuscripts in order to establish from them critical texts. It appears that I:Iunayn translated many works into Syriac and that these, in tum, were trans­ lated into Arabic by Isbaq and other members of his staff. Another school of translators, primarily inter­ ested in mathematical and astronomical works, was centered at I:Iarran. The head of this school ofheathen Sabians was Thabit ibn Qurrah (c.836--90 1 ) . In the tenth century still another school of translators arose, this time among the Jacobites. \."ot knowing Greek, these translators worked from earlier Syriac versions and they drew upon the Arabic translations of their predecessors. The best known members of this group were Abu Bishr \1atta, a \." estorian, and Yabya ibn 'Adr (893-974), a Jacobite. The Arabic translations were in general very accurate, the translators preferring l iter­ alness to elegance of style. The works translated during this period seem to have been those studied in the late Hellenistic schools. Of the works of Aristotle, all seem to have been trans­ lated with the exception of the Dialogues and the Politics. Together with these works there were trans­ lated the writings of his commentators, among them those of Alexander of Aphrodisias, Themistius, and Theophrastus. So much were these commentators

part of the Aristotelian tradition that, at times, their views are cited in the name of Aristotle. Of Platonic works there were translations of the Timaeus, Repub­ lic, and Laws and, in addition, the Phaedo and Crito were known. It is quite likely that, as our knowledge increases, translations of other dialogues will come to light. \."eoplatonism was represented by a number of works, the most famous of which were the Theology of Aristotle and the Liber de causis. Though these works were ascribed to Aristotle, the first consisted, in fact, of excerpts from Plotinus' Enneads, while the second was taken from Proclus' Elements of Theology. The attri­ bution of these works to Aristotle is not too surprising considering that in the Hellenistic schools the teach­ ings of Plato and Aristotle were often considered as be­ ing ultimately one -a view that some of the :\.1uslim Aristotelians accepted later on. To this impressive list of philosophical works there must be added transla­ tions of works of Galen and of hermetic and pseudo­ Empedoclean writings. In this connection it should not be forgotten that the Arabic translations served to transmit Greek learning to the Christian and Jewish worlds. Though philosophical discussions- primarily about determinism and human freedom - formed part of the controversies among early Islamic sects, Islamic philosophy proper may be said to have had its begin­ nings with the dialectical theologians, the \1utakal­ limiln. Divided into groups, of which the \1u'tazilites and the Ash'arites were the most important, the \1u­ takallimun were characterized by their use of philo­ sophical arguments for the explication of scriptural notions and for the resolution of difficulties occa­ sioned by apparent inconsistencies in scriptural texts. Hence, more interested in the exegetical uses of philo­ sophical arguments than in the construction of philo­ sophical systems, they drew upon Platonic, Aristotelian, neoplatonic, Stoic, and Epicurean notions as the need arose, as a result of which their philosophical views had an eclectic character. The \1u'tazilites seem to have had their origin, to­ ward the end of the eighth century, in discussion groups that met in Basrah and Bagdad to discover how Greek philosophical thought may be of help in the so­ lution of certain religious problems. Though it was

Islamic Philosophy customary at one time to describe them as the "free­ thinkers of Islam," their position is now understood in more moderate terms. In fact, Mu'tazilite doctrines became the official creed during the reign of al­ Ma'mun and the affirmation of some of them was re­ quired for holding public office. Of the five basic Mu'tazilite doctrines, three were primarily theologi­ cal, but two- divine unity and justice - were of philo­ sophical interest. Investigations concerning the unity of God were marked by an attempt to show how God can be said to be one and yet be described by many attributes, while inquiries into divine justice had as their goal to show how God can be said to be om­ nipotent and yet the human will can be held to be free. From their interest in these two issues, the Mu'tazilites were also called "the men of unity and justice." In ad­ dition, the \.1.u'tazilites were known for their proofs of the creation of the world- proofs for which they were indebted to earlier Christian :\"eoplatonists. The Mu'tazilites had followers among the Jews, though their influence on Christian thought was indirect. Like the Mu'tazilites, the Ash'arites sought philo­ sophical clarification of Qur'anic doctrines, though their views were closer to Islamic orthodox thought. Founded by al-Ash'ari (873-935), who was a Mu'tazi­ lite at one time, they emphasized the omnipotence of God, meaning thereby that God is the direct cause of everything that happens in the world. In accordance with this opinion they denied the existence of sec­ ondary causes, and the only answer they admitted to the question "Why did this happen?" was "God willed it." Though they were prepared to recognize a certain order and regularity in the phenomena of nature, they refused to ascribe these to necessary laws, holding in­ stead that this apparent regularity is the result of "cus­ tom" (adah). Similarly, their understanding of divine omnipotence led them to deny the freedom of the human will, though, at the same time, they attempted to develop a doctrine of human responsibility. To accomplish this, they formulated the doctrine of "ac­ quisition" (kasb) according to which, though God de­ termines the outcome of human actions, man can decide to act willingly or with reservation. It is for this mental state that God justly rewards or punishes man. Interesting to note, the Ash'arites did not find any fol-

217

lowers among the Jews, and their influence on Chris­ tian thinkers was, once again, indirect. Islamic thought became more strictly philosophi­ cal in the Platonic-neoplatonic and Aristotelian (fal­ safah) traditions. Since the \1uslims often gained their knowledge of Plato's views through neoplatonic sources, they made no sharp distinction between the views of Plato and those of his neoplatonic followers. Similarly, since the Aristotelian teachings that the \ll.u slims knew were transmitted through the Hellenis­ tic schools, their Aristotelian ism was intermingled with neoplatonic teachings. Hence, an inquiry into the de­ gree of neoplatonic influences forms a special prob­ lem in the study of \1uslim Aristotelianism. Through Platonic-neoplatonic writings, of which the Theology of Aristotle and the Liber de causis have already been mentioned, \.1.uslims became familiar with such typi­ cal doctrines as: that God is best conceived as the One, that He is most properly described by negative attri­ butes, that the world came into being through ema­ nation, that in the emanative process the Logos serves as intermediary between God and the world, that the soul is a substance, and that the final act of under­ standing is a kind of"illumination." The latter doctrine became especially important for the philosophical ex­ planation of the experience of the prophets. Platonism was also central to \.1.uslim political thought. In the ab­ sence of Aristotle's Politics (whether by accident or de­ sign ) , \.1.uslim thinkers based their political doctrines on Plato's Republic and Laws. The Platonic political tradition yielded the description of the ideal state that came to be identified with the state founded by Islam, the division of the citizens into distinct classes, and the image of the philosopher-king who was identified with the prophet or imam (religious leader) . Aristotelian­ ism, on the other hand, made its primary contribution through its contention that the world is best studied through a plurality of sciences and through its logical teachings. In logic, Aristotelianism contributed such typical notions as substance and accident, properties, the syllogism in its various forms; in physics: matter and form, the four causes, the various changes, time, place, the prime mover; in psychology: the soul and its faculties, the different intellects; and in meta­ physics: being, essence and existence, potentiality and

218

Islamic Philosophy

actuality, the incorporeal intelligences, and the de­ scription of God. In ethics, there was much common ground between the Platonic and Aristotelian tradi­ tions in such doctrines as: that virtue requires control of the passions and that the contemplative life is the highest good for man. The first Aristotelian is generally held to be Abu YusufYa'aqub ibn Isbaq ai-Kindr (c.80 l -866) . Called the "Philosopher of the Arabs," he was active in Bag­ dad at the courts of al-.\1a'mun and al-.\1u'ta�im, hav­ ing been, in fact, the tutor of the latter's son. Over 3 50 treatises are ascribed to him, but only some sixty to sev­ enty appear to have survived [see l\. Rescher, A/ Kindi: An Annotated Bibliography (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1 96 5 ) ] . As an Aristotelian he advo­ cated the independent study of philosophy and he had a major interest in the sciences, though he also wrote on metaphysics and logic. But .\1u'tazilite and neoplatonic doctrines also influenced his thought. In psychology, he developed a doctrine of the four intel­ lects - an issue that became a commonplace among the subsequent Aristotelians. H owever, he deviated from the Aristotelian scheme, coming thereby closer to religious teachings, in holding that the world and, with it, time and motion had a beginning. The next significant philosopher was Abu Bakr ibn \1ubammad ibn Zakariya ai-Razi (d. 923 or932), who was known among the Latins as Razes the great physi­ cian. A rather independent spirit, he defended Plato against Aristotle who, to his mind, had corrupted phi­ losophy. He denied that philosophy and religion can be reconciled and he saw no need for prophets, hold­ ing that the human intellect, properly used, is quite adequate for all human needs. Philosophy, for him, was not a discipline restricted to a chosen few; all men, so he held, can benefit from philosophical studies. In his physical teachings he was an atomist, but he held with some of the interpreters of the Timaeus that the world was created from an eternal, pre-existing matter. He also taught that there are five ultimate substances - not one-which are God, soul, matter, space, and time. It can readily be seen why his views earned him the displeasure of his contemporaries who branded him a heretic. Aristotelianism in the East continued with al-Razi's contemporary al-Farabi ( 870-930) and reached its -

high point with Ibn Sina (Avicenna) (980-1 037) . These philosophers, together with ai-Ghazaii ( 1 0 5 &-­ l l l l ), the great critic of the Aristotelians, will be discussed in later sections. A number of lesser philoso­ phers were at work in the Islamic East, but, though they are interesting in their own right, they have no di­ rect bearing on the contents of this volume. Only the Sincere Brethren or Brethren of Purity (Ikhwan al­ Safa) need to be mentioned. Active in the second half of the tenth century, they produced about fifty "Let­ ters," which were an encyclopedia of the philosophi­ cal sciences. Their exposition was semipopular, and they attempted to strike a middle ground between or­ thodoxy and the Aristotelians. Though a variety of philosophical influences are at work, the collection has a neoplatonic orientation. After having reached its highpoint in the East with Ibn Sina, Islamic philosophy began to shift to Spain and :\orth Africa in the West. In its beginnings in that region, philosophy was heavily neoplatonic, though this :\eoplatonism was modified by pseudo-Empedo­ clean writings. Under the influence of the latter, Ibn .\1asarrah (883-93 I ), who is said to have introduced philosophy into Spain, modified the typical neopla­ tonic doctrine of emanation by holding that first mat­ ter emanated directly from God and by placing first matter high in the emanationist scheme. This doc­ trine was accepted by Ibn Gabirol (see page 3 5 1 ). Aris­ totelianism proper developed in the West during the twelfth century, partially because Almohad rulers were generally sympathetic to philosophical specula­ tions. In Spain, it should be noted, the influence of ai-Farabr was stronger than that of lbn Sina, and it be­ came the tendency of Spanish Aristotelianism ( espe­ cially in the person oflbn Rush d) to cleanse Aristotle's doctrines of their neoplatonic accretions. The first im­ portant Aristotelian in the West was Ibn Bajja (c. l 070l l 3 8 ), the Avempace of the Latins. H is works, most of which are lost, seem to have included commentaries on Aristotle, but among those that have survived ( not all complete) there are The Regimen of the Solitary and Conjunction ofthe Intellect with Man. As the title of the former work indicates, Ibn Bajja was at variance with the general trend of Islamic political philosophy in holding that human happiness is best attained in separation from the state. Ibn Bajja's doctrine of soli-

Islamic Philosophy contemplation influenced Ibn Tufayl ( 1 1 001 184) , the next in the line of Spanish Aristotelians. I n f:layy ibn Yaq;iin , a historical romance, I b n Tufayl tells the story of a child who, having been cast ashore on an uninhabited island, develops a contemplative philosophy of his own as he grows up. When later circumstances make it possible for i::Iayy to return to civilization, he attempts to convert men to the philo­ sophical outlook he has developed. When he is un­ successful, he returns to his island, spending the rest of his days in contemplation. Islamic Aristotelianism reached its climax in Spain with Ibn Rushd (Aver­ roes), the great commentator on Aristotle's works. But Ibn Rushd also marked the virtual end of Aristotelian­ ism in the Islamic world. Deprived of followers among Muslims, he gained expositors and disciples among tary

219

Jews and Christians. \1uch o f the continuation o f Is­ lamic philosophy must be seen in terms of its influ­ ence on these two traditions. In this volume, the \1u'tazilites are represented in the Jewish philosophy section by Saadia Gaon, a Jewish exponent of their views. No separate selec­ tion is devoted to the Ash'arites, but their views are discussed incidentally by some of the \1uslim and Jewish Aristotelians who criticized their position. :-.i eoplatonism is once again represented in the Jew­ ish philosophy section, its exponent being Ibn GabiroL The prevailing number of the selections in the section on Islamic philosophy are taken from the major Aristotelians - al-Farabr, Ibn Sfna, and Ibn Rushd, while al-Ghazalr exemplifies the reaction to this movement.

Al-Farabi, c . 870-9 5 0

Though .\1uslim Aristotelianism can be said to have begun with al-Kindl (see page 2 1 8}, al-Farabl was the first major representative of this philosophical group. Known as "the second teacher" (Aristotle was the first}, al-Farabi commented on many of Aristotle's works, wrote expositions of Platonic and Aristotelian doc­ trines, and, in addition, composed a number of inde­ pendent works. Varied as his philosophical interests were, he was especially praised for his works on logic, and his political theories became perhaps his most dis­ tinctive contribution to .\1uslim and Jewish thought. Among his .\1uslim successors there was hardly any­ one who was not influenced by his teachings, and sev­ eral Jewish thinkers, .\1aimonides in particular, held him in high esteem. The Christian world knew him through Latin translations of some of his works, but for it his political writings held little interest and, in gen­ eral, he was overshadowed by Ibn Sina and Ibn Rushd. The complexion and intention of al-Farabi's thought is not easily determined. It is clear enough that he was one of those philosophers who believed in the essential unity of Plato and Aristotle (though that this was his real view has recently been challenged), and it is equally clear that in logic, natural philosophy, and ethics he followed Aristotle and his commenta­ tors; in politics, Plato; and in metaphysics, Aristotelian and neoplatonic teachings. How exactly these elements serve to make up his thought is less easily determined. Difficulties arise because there arc contradictions in his views and because works formerly attributed to him have been shown not to be his. There have been interpreters who have seen in him someone who earnestly attempted to harmonize Islamic doctrines with philosophical teachings, while others have found 220

him to be someone committed to philosophy, but for whom religion had largely a political use. God, for al-Farabi, is identical with the neopla­ tonic One and at the same time with Aristotle's divine thought thinking itself. Besides being one, God is knowing, true, and living, but in God all these attri­ butes are identical with His essence. God is incorpo­ real, pure intellect, and the creator of everything that exists. To explain the origin of the world, al-Farabi turns to the neoplatonic doctrine of emanation. God con­ templates Himself and from this contemplation there issues forth from Him an intellect, which is the first emanation. From this intellect there emanate succes­ sively nine further intellects, the last of which is the so­ called Agent Intellect. To each intellect belongs a celestial sphere, though the intellect exists in separa­ tion from its sphere. Invoking neoplatonic cosmolog­ ical doctrines, ai-Farabi identifies each of the first nine spheres with a celestial body. In descending order the spheres arc: the first all-encompassing sphere, the sphere of the fixed stars, Saturn, Jupiter, \1ars, the Sun, Venus, .\1ercury, and the :\1oon. The Agent Intellect governs the sublunar sphere, which is the sphere of generation and corruption. Within the sub­ lunar sphere, intellectual, animate, and natural pow­ ers are at work, and everything within it is composed of matter and form. Though it has been held that em­ anation, for ai-Farabi, is voluntary and takes place in time, it seems more likely that emanation, for him, is necessary and eternal. One of the more fully developed aspects of ai­ Farabi's philosophy of nature is his doctrine of the in­ tellect. In the third book of the De anima Aristotle had

Al-Farabr, c. 870-950 described how the mind knows, but his account was rather enigmatic. The ancient commentators had tried to make Aristotle's teachings more specific and, prior to al-Farabr, al-Kindr had written on the inte:­ Ject. Drawing on these predecessors, al-Farabr gave the Aristotelian doctrines an interpretation ofhis own. Examining Aristotle and his commentators, he con­ cluded that in discussing the intellect Aristotle speaks of it in four senses. First there is that faculty of the hu­ man soul which has the ability to think, and this is the intellect in potentiality. It seems that al-Farabf fol­ lowed Alexander of Aphrodisias in considering this intellect as a power within the body. 1 When the intel­ lect abstracts the intelligibles from substances within the material world, it becomes an intellect in actual­ ity. The intellect in actuality, in turn, can think the intelligibles within it and, thus, itself; and when it does this, it becomes the acquired intellect. Finally, as any change, thinking requires an efficient cause, and this is the Agent Intellect. As has already been noted, the Agent Intellect is the lowest of the self-existent intellects. Closely connected with his psychology is al-Farabr's account of prophecy. The prophet is not merely some­ one arbitrarily selected by God for his prophetic of­ fice, but someone possessed of all human perfections. Not only must the prophet possess a healthy constitu­ tion, moral virtues, and intellectual perfection, but he must also have a well-developed faculty of imagina­ tion. Once these perfections have been attained, the prophet assumes a tv•ofold role. As philosopher, his ac­ quired intellect will be in contact with the Agent In­ tellect from which it receives a kind of illumination. Al-Farabr insists that the prophetic intellect will never become identical with the Agent Intellect, but at the same time he admits that the Agent Intellect is a kind of form for the acquired intellect of the prophet. But besides being an accomplished philosopher, the prophet is also a statesman. As a statesman, he cares for the common good, governing the state in accor­ dance with just laws. Since, as statesman, the prophet must address the masses who can only understand

I. Cf. F. Rahman, Prophecy in Islam (London: Allen & Unwin, 1 9 58), p. 2 1 .

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truths presented i n metaphorical form, he requires a well-developed imagination in order to be able to per­ suade them. Ylaimonides later on was to base his the­ ory of prophecy on al-Farabf's. Al-Farabt's doctrine of the intellect is also impor­ tant for his account of human immortality. With other Yluslim Aristotelians he considered the Qur'an's phys­ ical description of the afterlife as an accommodation to the understanding of the masses, but at the same time he does not seem to have denied human immortality altogether. It appears to have been his view that the ac­ quired intellect of those chosen few who have actual­ ized their intellectual faculty will survive death and that this incorporeal immortality is individual.2 In his political philosophy al-Farabr is the disciple of Plato, though Aristotelian influences are not miss­ ing :'vi an, according to al-Farabr, is political by na­ ture, and he attains his happiness within the state. The ideal state, as Plato had taught, consists of the orderly arrangement of its citizens, each one fulfilling the task for which he is best fitted. :'vi en by nature are unequal, but al-Farabr interprets this doctrine in the light of Aristotelian logical distinctions. The intellectual elite that governs the state consists of those who can un­ derstand demonstrations, while the masses are those who only understand through various arguments of persuasion. As the world in its totality requires a first principle that is one, so the state requires a single ruler. He is the prophet, also called philosopher, legislator, and imam (leader). Yet having described the ideal state, al-Farabr divides it into three kinds and, in addi­ tion, he analyzes a variety of states that are defective. It is in al-Farabr's political doctrines that philoso­ phy and religion finally meet. For it is the prophet who is the founder of the good state required as a prereq­ uisite for human perfection, and it is the prophet who transmits to the masses philosophical truth in sym­ bolic form. Philosophy contains the final truth, but re­ ligion contains its image. Abu \'a�r al-Farabr was born c. 870 in the district of the city of Farah (Turkestan) , of Turkish descent. He studied first in Khurasan and later in Bagdad, where he came in contact with Christian Aristotelians. One

2. Cf. ibid., p. 2 5 .

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Islamic Philosophy

of h is teachers was the :\estorian Christian Yubanna ibn Haylan, who was versed in the teachings of the school of Alexandria, and another, the translator and commentator Bishr Matta ibn Yunus. In 942 he ac­ cepted an invitation to the court of Sayf al-Dawlah, and he spent most of the remainder of his life at Aleppo. H e is said to have lived a modest and ascetic life and to have been a man of mystical inclination. He died about 9 50. Over one hundred works have been ascribed to al­ Farabi, but many of these are no longer extant. He seems to have commented on many ofAristotle's works, but most of these commentaries are now lost. I n addi­ tion to a number oflogical works, there should be men­ tioned his treatises Concerning the Intellect (Ff a/- 'Ai:Jl), The Enumeration of the Sciences (I��a' al- 'Uliim), About the Scope ofAristotle's "Metaphysics" (Ff Aghraq Ma Ba 'd al-Tabz'ah), The Harmony between the Views

of the Divine Plato and Aristotle (Al-fam 'bayan Ra 'yay al-Hakfmayn A{lat;iin al-Ilahr wa-Arist;iitiilfs), On the Vacuum (Ff al-Khala'), a book in three parts consisting of The Attainment ofHappiness (Ff Ta��l al-Sa 'adah), a political work, and The Philosophy of Plato (Falsafat Ajiatun) and Philosophy of Aristotle (Falsafat Arisl;ii­ talfs). His political works include The Political Regime (Al-Siyasat al-Madaniyyah), The Opinions ofthe People of the Virtuous City (Ff Ara' al-Madfnah al-Faqilah), Epitome ofPlato's "Laws," and Aphorisms of the States­ man (Fu� al-Madanf). The Seals of Wisdom (Fu� al-Hikam) is probably by Ibn Sina, and it has been ques­ tioned whether The Main Questions ( 'Uyiin al-Masa'il) is by al-Farabi. In The Principles of Existing Things, al-Farabi explains the basic metaphysics of the First Cause and secondary causes, form and matter, and possibility and necessity.

1 8. The Princi p les of Existin g Thin gs [Part One] [ I ] The principles by which the six types of bodies and accidents subsist are divided into six major levels, each one comprising a single kind. The First Cause is in the first level. The secondary causes are in the second. The Active Intellect is in the third. The soul is in the fourth. Form is in the fifth. Matter is in the sixth. In the first level there cannot be many but rather only a single one. In each of the other grades, there are many. The first three levels (namely, the First Cause, the sec­ ondary causes, and the Active Intellect) are neither bodies nor are they in bodies. The second three levels (namely, soul, form, and matter) are in bodies, al­ though they themselves are not bodies. There are six genera of bodies: celestial bodies, rational animals, nonrational animals, plants, minerals, and the four el­ ements. The composite whole of these six genera of bodies is the universe. (2] With regard to the First, one should be con­ vinced that it is the divinity and the proximate cause ofthe existence of the secondary causes and the Active Intellect. The secondary causes are the causes of the existence of the celestial bodies, since it is out of them that the substances of these bodies come, and the ex­ istence of each one of the celestial bodies is a neces­ sary consequence of them. The highest level of the secondary causes necessarily entails the existence of the first heaven; and the lowest level of the secondary causes necessarily entails the existence of the orbit containing the Moon. The secondary causes in be­ tween these two necessarily entail the existence of each of the spheres in between these two spheres. The number of secondary causes equals the number of ce­ lestial bodies. One ought to call the secondary causes "spiritual beings," "angels," and similar names.

From Classical Arabic Philosophy, tr. Jon McGinnis and David C. Reisman (Indianapolis: Hackett Publish­ ing Company, 2007). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

[ 3] The function of the Active Intellect is to watch over the rational animal and endeavor to have him reach the highest level of perfection that man can reach, namely, ultimate happiness, which is for man to arrive at the level of the Active Intellect. The way that occurs is by attaining separation from bodies, without needing anything below in order to subsist (whether it be body or matter or accident), and by re­ maining in that state of perfection forever. Although the Active Intellect itself is singular, its rank none­ theless accommodates whatever part of the rational animal is freed of matter and attains happiness. The Active Intellect ought to be called the "protective sp1rit" and the "holy spirit" -since it is given names similar to these two- and its rank ought to be called "the heavenly kingdom" and other such names. [4] At the level of the soul, the principles are many. Some are the souls of celestial bodies, some are the souls of rational animals, and some are the souls of non­ rational animals. The rational animal possesses the faculties of reason, appetite, imagination, and sensory perception. [ 5] The faculty of reason is what enables man to ac­ quire the sciences and technical disciplines, to discern the difference between virtuous and vicious actions and ethical dispositions, to deliberate on what he should and should not do, and moreover to perceive what is beneficial and what harmful, what is pleasur­ able and what painful. The faculty of reason is divided into the theoretical and the practical [faculties] , and the practical [faculty] is divided into vocational and deliberative [faculties j. The theoretical faculty is what allows man to gain knowledge of anything that he does not act upon in any way, whereas the practical faculty is what allows man to gain knowledge of anything that man does act upon through his volition. The voca­ tional faculty is what allows man to acquire crafts and vocations, while the deliberative faculty is what allows him to think and reflect on any of the things that he should or should not do. The faculty of appetite allows man to seek out or flee from something, to desire something or be repulsed by it, and to prefer 223

224

Al-Fiiriibf, c.870--950

something or avoid it; it is also the faculty that occa­ sions hatred, love, amity, enmity, fear, security, anger, satisfaction, cruelty, mercy, and all the other acciden­ tal affections of the soul. [ 6] The faculty of the imagination stores impres­ sions of the objects of the senses once they are no longer present to sensory perception. It combines and separates [the impressions] while one is awake and asleep such that some are true and others false. It also perceives what is beneficial and what is harmful, what is pleasurable and what is painful, but not what are vir­ tuous and vicious actions and dispositions. [7] What the faculty of sensory perception does is obvious. It perceives the objects of the five senses (as commonly accepted by all) and what is pleasurable and what is painful, but it does not discern the differ­ ence between what is harmful and what is pleasura­ ble, nor what is virtuous and what vicious. [8] The nonrational animal includes those that have the three faculties other than that of reason, with the faculty of imagination in [those animals] func­ tioning in place of the faculty of reason in rational an­ imals. Others have the faculties of sense perception and appetite only. [9] The souls of the celestial bodies belong to a species different from the souls [of rational and non­ rational animals], entirely separate from them in their substances. The celestial souls have substance by virtue of [ this difference in species], and they move in circular fashion by virtue of their [souls] . I n terms of their existence they are nobler, more perfect, and more excellent than the souls of the species of animal that we have. [This is] because they are in no way and at no time in potentiality. On the contrary, they are al­ ways in actuality, due to the fact that the objects of their intellect are present in them from the very be­ ginning, and they are always intellecting what they in­ tellect. Our souls, on the other hand, are at first in potentiality and then later in actuality. [This is] be­ cause, at first, they are [simply] configured to receive and prepared to intellect the intelligibles, and [only] later do the intelligibles come to be in them, at which point they become actual. The celestial souls have nei­ ther sensory perception nor imagination; rather, they have only the soul that intellects, which in some sense is congeneric with the rational soul [in humans] . It is

by virtue of their substances that the celestial souls in­ tellect the intelligibles, which substances are separate from matter. Each of their souls intellects the First, and itself, and whichever secondary cause that gave it its substance. [ 1 0 ] The celestial souls definitely do not intellect the majority of the intelligibles that humans intellect from things in matter because they are far too high in rank by virtue of their substance to intellect the intel­ ligibles that are below them. The First intellects Itself, which, in a certain way, is all of the existents; for when It intellects Itself, It intellects, in a certain way, all of the existents, because it is only out of Its existence that every other existent receives its existence. Each of the secondary causes intellects itself and the First. [ 1 1 ] The Active Intellect both intellects the First, all of the secondary causes, and itself, as well as makes intelligibles of things that are not in themselves intel­ ligibles. Things that are intelligibles in themselves are separate from material bodies and do not subsist in any matter whatsoever. These are the intelligibles by virtue of their substances. These substances both in­ tellect and are intellected, for they intellect on ac­ count of the fact that they are intellected, what is intelligible about them being the very thing that in­ tellects. The other intelligibles are not l ike that, be­ cause neither the stone nor the plant, for example, is an intelligible, and it is certainly not the case that whatever is intellected of them is also what intellects. :\'othing that is a body or that is in a body is an intelli­ gible by virtue of its substance, and the substance of none of them is at the rank of an actual intellect. The Active Intellect is what makes them actual intelligibles and makes some of them actual intellects by raising them from their level of existence to a b·el higher than the one given them by nature. For example, the rational faculty, by virtue of which man is man, is not in its substance an actual intellect and was not given by nature to be an actual intellect; instead, the Active Intellect causes it to become an actual intellect and makes eve!Jihing else an actual intelligible for the ra­ tional faculty. Once the rational faculty becomes an actual intellect, that intellect (which is now actual) comes to resemble the separate things, by intellecting itself as actually an intellect, and what is intellected of it is the very thing that is intellecting, at which point

The Principles ofExisting Things it is a substance that intellects by virtue of being an in­ telligible, which in turn is due to the fact that it is in­ tellecting. At that point, the thing that intellects, the thing that is intellected, and the act of intellecting is one and the same thing. It is as a result of this that it arrives at the rank of the Active Intellect. Once man arrives at this rank, his happiness is perfect. [ 1 2] The relation of the Active Intellect to man is like that of the Sun to vision. The Sun gives light to vi­ sion, and by the light acquired from the Sun, vision actually sees, when before it had only the potential to see. By that light, vision sees the Sun itself, which is the cause of its actually seeing, and furthermore actu­ ally sees the colors that previously were [only] poten­ tially the objects of vision. The vision that was potential thereby becomes actual. In the same manner, the Ac­ tive Intellect provides man with something that it im­ prints in his rational faculty. The relation of that thing to the rational soul is like that of light to vision. It is by reason of this thing that the rational soul intellects the Active Intellect, that the things that are potentially in­ telligible become actually intelligible, and that man, who was potentially an intellect, becomes actually and perfectly an intellect, until he all but reaches the rank of the Active Intellect. So [man] becomes an intellect per se after he was not, and an intelligible per se after he was not, and a divine [substance] after being a ma­ terial one. This is what the Active Intellect does, and this is why it is called the Active Intellect. [ 1 3] Form is in the corporeal substance the way the shape of the bed is in the bed, matter being l ike the wood of the bed . The form is that by virtue of which the substance that can be corporeal becomes an actual substance. The matter is that by virtue of which it is potentially a substance. For the bed is potentially a bed due to the fact that it is wood, whereas it becomes an actual bed once its shape occurs in the wood. Form subsists through matter, and matter is a subject for bearing forms. Forms do not subsist by themselves, as they need a subject in order to exist, and their subject is matter, whereas matter exists only for the sake of forms. It would seem that the existence of forms is the primary aim, but since they subsist only in a given sub­ ject, matter was made a subject to bear forms. For this reason, as long as forms do not exist, the existence of matter is in vain. But none of the natural beings is in

225

vain. Therefore, prime matter cannot exist devoid o f a given form. \!tatter, then, i s a principle and cause solely by way of being the subject for bearing the form; it is not an agent, nor an end, nor something that can exist independently of some form. \!tatter and form are both called "nature," although form is more aptly named such. By way of example, vision is a substance, the body of the eye is its matter, the potentiality by which it sees is its form, and by virtue of them both combined, vision is vision in actuality. This is the same for all other natural bodies. [ 1 4} In the case of souls, 1 as long as they do not seek perfection and undertake activities to that end, they remain but potentialities and configurations, in a state of preparation to receive the imprints of things. Ex­ amples of this are vision before it sees and receives the imprints of visible objects, and the faculty of imagina­ tion before it receives the imprints of objects of the imagination, and reason before it receives the imprints of the intelligibles (that is, forms) . Once the imprints are actually in them -! mean the imprints of objects of the senses in the faculty of sensory perception, the objects of the imagination in the faculty of imagina­ tion, and the imprints of the intelligibles in the faculty of reason-the forms become distinct from what they were. :\ow, while the imprints present in the prior configurations are like forms in matters, they are defi­ nitely not called forms, unless equivocally. Those most unlike forms are the imprints of the intelligibles present in the rational, for they are almost completely separate from matter, and their manner of existing in the facultv is extremeh- unlike the existence of forms in matter. In the case of the ach1al intellect's becom­ ing like the Active Intellect, the intellect is not a form nor even like a form. Despite this fact, one group calls all noncorporeal substances "forms" equally by homonymity and divides them into those that are sep­ arate from matter by not needing it and by being free of it, and those that are not separate from matter (which are the forms we discussed), but the latter is a category of forms only by homonymity. [ 1 5] There are different orders of forms that require matter to subsist. The lowest order contains the forms .

I.

.

I.e., in the case of souls considered as forms.

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Al-Farabz, c.B70-950

of the four elements, that is, four different forms in dif­ ferent matters, though the species of the four matters is one and the same; for the matter of fire can itselfbear the form of air and the other elements. The remaining orders, arrayed in ascending rank, contain the forms of bodies that come to be out of the blend and mixture of the elements. The forms of mineral bodies are above the order of elemental forms. The forms of plants in all their differences are above the order of mineral forms. The forms of the species of nonrational animals in all their differences are above the plant forms. Fi­ nally, the forms of the rational animals- that is, the natural configurations that rational animals have by virtue of being rational animals- are above the forms of nonrational animals. [ 1 6] Form and prime matter are the most deficient of the principles in terms of existence, because in or­ der to exist and subsist they each need the other. Form can subsist only in matter; and matter, in substance and nature, exists for the sake of form, and that it ex­ ists is that it bears forms. As long as form does not exist, matter does not exist, since this particular mat­ ter does not in fact have a form in itself at all. There­ fore, for it to exist devoid of form is vain, and no natural thing can be vain. Equally, as long as matter does not exist, form does not exist, on account of the fact that form requires a subject in order to subsist. .\'ext, both form and matter have a deficiency and a perfection that are proper to it and not the other, as follows. It is by virtue of its form that the body has its more per­ fect state of being, that is to say, its actual existence, whereas it is by virtue of its matter that the body has its more deficient state of being, that is to say, its poten­ tial existence. The form exists neither because through it the matter exists, nor because it was created for the sake of matter, whereas matter exists for the sake of the form (I mean in order that the form subsist by it). This is how form is superior to matter. Ylatter is superior to form by virtue of the fact that it does not require a sub­ ject in order for it to exist, whereas form does . .\1atter has neither a contrary to it nor a privation that would be its opposite, whereas form does have a privation or a contrary. Anything that has a privation or a contrary cannot exist forever. Forms are similar to accidents in that they both need a subject in order to subsist, but forms are different from accidents by the fact that the

subjects of accidents are not made so that accidents would exist or in order to bear the accidents, whereas the subjects of forms (that is, matters) were made solely for the purpose of bearing forms. Ylatter is a sub­ ject for contrary forms, that is, it is receptive to the form and to the contrary, or privation, of that form. Ylatter transfers from one form to another, always without lagging and without any one form being more appropriate than its contrary; rather, matter receives all contraries equally. [ 1 7 ] In the case of the noncorporeal substances, none of the deficiency characteristic of form and mat­ ter attaches to them. Each one of them exists not in a subject. The existence of each one of them is not for the sake of something else, whether that be as matter, or as the instrument of something else, or as some­ thing that serves something else, or by needing to be replenished by an existence it would receive in the fu­ ture by its action on something else, or by being acted upon by something else. Yloreover, there is no con­ trary to any one of them, nor any privation opposing any one of them. These more properly deserve to be [called] substances than form and matter. .\'ow, even though none of these deficiencies attach to the sec­ ondary causes and Active Intellect below the First, they are nonetheless not entirely free of another type of deficiency. [This is J because their substances derive from something else, and their existence is conse­ quential to the existence of something else. The per­ fection of their substances does not extend so far that in themselves they do not need to receive existence from something else; it is rather the case that their ex­ istence is bestowed on them by something more per­ fect in existence than they are. This is a deficiency common to all existents other than the First. [ 1 8] In addition to this, none of the secondary causes or the Active Intellect is capable of acquiring the splendor and adornment of existence, not to men­ tion the joy, pleasure, and beauty of such only by in­ tellecting itself alone; instead, it needs to intellect, in addition to itself, another being more perfect and mag­ nificent than itself. In this respect then, there is a cer­ tain multiplicity in the very being of each of them, since anything that intellects some other given thing does itself, in a certain manner, become that other thing while simultaneously being its own proper self.

The Principles ofExisting Things It is as though the excellence of its being is completed only through the support of a certain multiplicity, but it is also that very multiplicity in what makes the thing a substance that is a deficiency in terms of that thing's eXiste nce. However, it is no part of their nature to gain the splendor, beauty, and adornment of existence by intellecting anything existing below them, or any­ thing that comes to be out of each one of them, or any­ thing that is consequential to the existence of each of the existing beings; none of that is associated with any one of them or inheres in any one of them. Further­ more, in order to come to be out of something else, none of them stands in need of any instrument or other circumstance, except its very being and sub­ stance. In point of fact, on its own it is capable of bring­ ing something else into being without seeking the help of any instrument or circumstance beyond its own substance. [ 19] The souls of the celestial bodies are completely free from the aspects of the deficiency found in form and matter, except that they are [also] in subjects. In this respect they resemble the forms, although their subjects are not matters; instead, each of them is proper to one subject that cannot be a subject of any else. In this respect, [the souls of the celestial bodies] are dif­ ferent from form. Although they have all aspects of the deficiency found in the secondary causes, the multi­ plicity whereby they are substances is significantly greater than the multiplicity whereby the secondary causes are substances; for they attain the beauty and joy [of existence] only in as much as they intellect themselves, the secondary causes, and the First. :\ext, a consequence of the existence whereby they are sub­ stances is that they bring into existence other beings external to their substances, though they are also in­ capable of bestowing existence on something else without an instrument or any other circumstance be­ longing to them. In both cases, then, [the souls of the celestial bodies] need other things external to them­ selves (by "both cases" I mean their subsistence and their providing other things with existence), whereas the secondary causes are entirely free of the need for anything external to themselves in both cases. :\ever­ theless, [the souls of the celestial bodies] certainly do not receive the splendor and beauty of existence either by intellecting the beings below them or by virtue of

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their existence being limited to them without any ex­ istence issuing from it to another. [ 20] In the case of the souls that are in animals, once their faculties of sensory perception and imagi­ nation reach a perfection through the appearance in them of the imprints of sensible and imaginable ob­ jects, a certain resemblance to the separate things comes about in them. When the rational part of the soul is perfected and it then becomes an actual intel­ lect, it very much resembles the separate things, ex­ cept that it receives perfection, actuality, and the splendor, adornment, and beauty of existence only by intellecting not just the things above it in rank but also the things below it in rank, making the multiplicity in what affords its substance very great. Moreover, its ex­ istence is limited to itself alone and is not bestowed on anyihing other than it when it achieves complete sep­ aration from all other parts of the soul. Once it sepa­ rates from the appetitive, imaginative, and sensing faculties, it receives existence from something else. It would appear that anything something else might ac­ quire from it serves the sole purpose of making it itself more perfect in existence by virtue of doing that, so once it separates from the corporeal instrument, it can have no effect on anything else and continues to be re­ stricted in its existence. Apparently, it is not a part of its substance to bestow existence on something else; instead, it suffices that its existence in its substance be preserved forever and that it be a cause among the causes - a final cause, that is, not an efficient one. [ 2 1 ] In the First there is no deficiency in any way whatsoever. There can be no existence more perfect and superior than Its existence. There can be no exis­ tence prior to It nor at a rank equivalent to It that is not Its own existence exclusively. Therefore, the be­ stowal of existence [on It] from anything other than and prior to It is as equally unlikely as the possibility that such bestowal would come from anything less perfect than It. Thus, It is also completely different in Its substance from everything other than it. The exis­ tence that It has cannot belong to more than one, be­ cause there cannot be a difference between whatever has this existence and something else that has the very same existence. If there is a difference, then that dif­ ference would itself be something other than what they have in common, in which case what makes the

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one different from the other would be one part of what sustains both of their existences, [and what they share in common would be another part] .Then, each of them would be divisible in definition, in which case each one of the two parts that each of them has would be a cause for its subsistence. Then it would not be First; instead, there would be an existent that is prior to it that sustains it. That is an absurdity, since It is First. And, as long as there is no difference between the two, they cannot be multiple, neither two, nor more. [22] \1oreover, if it were possible for something other than the [First] to have the very same existence [It has], then it would be possible for there to be an ex­ istence outside oflts existence, which It would not pos­ sess alone and which would be at the same rank. Then Its existence would be less than whatever had both ex­ istences together, and then there would be a deficiency in Its existence, because the complete is that outside of which nothing exists that it could have. Then, Its exis­ tence cannot belong to anything else outside of Itself, and therefore It cannot have any contrary whatsoever, because the existence of the contrary of something is at the same rank as its existence. But there can be no ex­ istence at the same rank that It does not possess alone, as otherwise, Its existence would be deficient. [ 2 3] \1oreover, the perfection of the existence of anything that has a contrary is through the absence of that contrary, because something that has a contrary can exist at the same time as its contrary only if it is preserved by things outside and things external to its being and substance; for there is no way that the sub­ stance of one of the two contraries is sufficient to pre­ serve itself against its contrary. It necessarily follows from this that the First would have some cause by which It exists. 'l11erefore, [that cause] could not be at the same rank as [the First]; instead, [the cause] alone would be unique. So [the First] is one in this regard. [ 24] :\'ext, It cannot be divided essentially in defi­ nition - I mean, It cannot be divided into things through which It would subsist- because each part of the definition that would explain what I t is could not designate each part of what makes It subsist. [The rea­ son for this is] that in such cases, the parts by which something subsists are the causes of its existence, in the sense that the factors designated by the parts of the definition are causes for the existence of the defined

thing, the way that matter and form are causes for the existence of the thing constituted of them. That is not possible for It, since It is First. Since It cannot be di­ vided in this manner, it is even less likely that It could be divided by quantity and the other manners of divi­ sion. So It is also one in this other respect. [2;] In l ight of this, Its existence, by which It is dis­ tinguished from all other beings, also cannot be other than that by which It is an existent in Itself. Therefore , Its distinction from evel"}thing else is through a unity that is Its being. One of the meanings of "unity" is the proper existence by which every existent is distin­ guished from another, and it is by virtue of this that each existent is called "one," in the sense that it has an existence proper to it alone, and this particular conno­ tation [of the term "unity"] goes along with existence. In this respect, the First is also One, and more deserv­ ing of that name and connotation than an}thing else. [26] Because [the First] does not have matter nor is [in matter] in any way, It is an intellect in Its sub­ stance, because it is matter that prevents something from being an intellect and from actually intellecting. It is [also] an intelligible by virtue of being an intellect; for the one whose identity is intellect is likewise an in­ telligible to that one whose identity is intellect. It has absolutely no need for anything outside of Itself to in­ tellect It in order to be an intelligible. On the contrary, It I tself intellects Itself and, by intellecting Itself, It is an intellect and, by Its intellecting Itself, It is an in­ telligible. Thus, in order to be an intellect and some­ thing that intellects, It has absolutely no need to receive any other being or thing outside of Itself. On the contra!J·, It is an intellect and something that in­ tellects by virtue of intellecting Itself; for the thing that intellects is the vel"}· thing that is intellected. [27] This is equally the case with [the First's' being a "knower." To be a knower, It has absolutely no need outside of Itself for any other thing from which It would receive excellence by knowing it; nor does It need to know any other being in order to be known. On the contrary, It is sufficient in Its substance to be knower and known. Its knowing Itself is not different from Its substance; for knower, known, and knowing are one being and one substance. [28] The same is the case with [the First's] being "wise," for wisdom is intellecting the perfect thing by

The Principles of Existing Things the perfect knowledge. By virtue of intellecting and knowing Itself, It knows the perfect thing by the per­ fect knowledge. Perfect knowledge is the complete knowledge that always belongs to what is always eter­ nal. Likewise, [the First] is wise not by a knowledge that It receives through knowing something outside of Itself. On the contrary, It is sufficient in Itself to be wise in knowing Itself. [29] The beauty, splendor, and adornment of every being is to exist as perfect and to reach its final per­ fection. ::-.;ow, since the existence of the First is the most perfect existence, Its beauty surpasses that of every beautiful being, as does the adornment and splendor It has in Its substance and being. [All on that It has in Itself and by virtue of intellecting Itself. [30] Now, since pleasure, happiness, delight, and joy result all the more by perceiving the most beauti­ ful by means of the most accurate perception, and since [the First] is the most beautiful absolutely and the most splendid and most adorned, and Its percep­ tion of Itself is the most accurate perception and per­ fect knowledge, the pleasure that the First enjoys is a pleasure the real nature of which we cannot under­ stand and the massive extent of which we cannot grasp but by reference and in relation to the minuscule pleasure we have when we suppose that we have per­ ceived what we take to be most beautiful and splendid by means of some accurate act of perception, whether that be through sensory perception, imagination, or the intellect. Since in this state we experience a pleas­ ure that we suppose surpasses all others in sheer extent, and we experience the ultimate degree of happiness in ourselves as a result, then to compare the knowl­ edge and perception [that the First has] of what is most perfect and beautiful to our knowledge and percep­ tion of what [we take to be] the most perfect and most splendid, is to compare Its delight, pleasure, and joy in Itself to the pleasure, delight, and joy we have in ourselves. But since there is no way to relate our perception to Its perception, nor our knowledge to Its knowledge- though if there is some relation, it is minuscule-there is then no way to relate our pleas­ ure, delight, and joy in ourselves to that of the First. Even if there is some relation, it is incredibly minus­ cule; for how could there be any relation between a minuscule part and something that has no temporal

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measure, between something deficient in so many ways to something of the utmost perfection? Since It takes greater pleasure, joy, and happiness in Itself, and so loves and desires Itself all the more, it is obvious that the relation between the First's necessary desire, love, and adoration of Itself to our own desire and pleasure of the perfection of ourselves is like the relation of Its excellence and perfection to our own excellence and the perfection we adore of ourselves.2 [In the case of the First], lover and beloved are one and the same, and what desires and what is desired are one and the same, so It is the First Beloved and the First Desired. [ 3 1 ] Since the existence that belongs to the First is due to Itself, it necessarily follows that naturally exist­ ing things - that is, those things not due to human choice -derive from It whatever existence they have (some types of which are available to sensory percep­ tion, while others are knowable through demonstra­ tion). The existence of anything derived from It is by way of a bestowal that comes to be for the sake of the existence of something else and by the existence of something else being bestowed from Its existence. In this respect, the existence of anything derived from It is not a cause for It in any way whatsoever, nor is it a final cause for Its existence, nor does it provide It some sort of perfection, the way that such does with the ma­ jority of things that we bring about; for in our case we are disposed to bring many things into being where those things are final causes for the sake of which we exist, and many of those final causes afford us some perfection that we did not have before. [ 3 2] The aim of the existence of the First is not the existence of the other things, such that those would be the final causes of Its existence, since then there would be a cause apart from Itself for Its existence. It is also not the case that in providing existence It gains another perfection apart from what It is or Its own Perfection the way that one who gives money or something else to another gains pleasure, honor, status, or some other good or perfection as recompense, in which case the

2. In other words, since the First's perfection is greater than the perfection of humans, and one loves the perfec­ tion in a thing, the love It has for Itself is greater than the love humans have of themselves.

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existence of the other is a cause of some good he ac­ quires and a [state of] being he did not have. It is air surd for any of these things to apply to the First, because they would preclude Its being the First and necessarily entail the priority of something other than It and make that a cause of Its existence. On the con­ trary, it is on account of It and as a consequence and result of Its substance that anything other than It de­ rives existence from It. Therefore, the existence It has through which It bestows existence on (everything] else is in Its substance. The existence It has through which It is in Itself a substance is that very existence that It has through which everything else derives exis­ tence from It. (The First] is not divisible into two things, one through which Its essence is substance, and another through which something else comes to exist from It. [The First] also does not need anything other than Its very being and substance to bestow the exis­ tence of something else from Its existence, the way that we and many other agents do. Its existence through which It bestows the existence of something else is not more perfect than the existence It has through which It is substance. Therefore, although the existence of what derives existence from It is not temporally poste­ rior to It, it is certainly so in every other way. ( 3 3 ] The terms that should be employed for [the First] are the terms that designate those existents among us that are perfect and excellent without, however, any of those terms designating the excellence and perfec­ tion that the First has in the way that those terms cus­ tomarily designate such existents among us. On the contrary, they should designate the perfection that is specific to It in Its substance. \.1oreover, the types of perfections that different terms customarily designate are multiple, but one absolutely should not thereby suppose that the types of perfection that It has that are so designated by multiple terms are multiple species into which It could be divided and through the aggre­ gate total of which It would have substance. On the contrary, those terms, though multiple, should desig­ nate a single substance, a single absolutely indivisible existence. Finally, whenever such a term is conven­ tionally agreed to designate an excellence and perfec­ tion outside of the substance of such an existent among us, that term when employed for the First ought to be made to designate an excellence and per-

fection in Its very substance. For example, "beautiful" is used to designate a perfection of color, shape, or po­ sition pertaining to many a thing but not in the sub­ stance of that thing. (34] The terms that designate the perfection and excellence pertaining to things among us include the following. There are terms that designate what be­ longs to something in itself, not as something relating to something else, like "existent," "one," and other such terms. There are terms that designate what belongs to something in relation to something external to it, like "just" and "generous." With respect to the things among us, these terms designate an excellence and a perfection of a part of the thing that is the relation it has to another thing apart from it, such that this rela­ tion constitutes a part of the whole of what that term designates, and in that excellence and that perfection subsisting through something being related to some­ thing else. :\"ow, whenever these terms are made to ap­ ply to the First and intended to designate the relation that It has to something else through the existence be­ stowed from It, the relation should not be thought to constitute a part of Its perfection as designated by that term, nor in the sense that the perfection subsists through that relation. Instead, that term should be thought of as designating Its substance and Its perfec­ tion, whereas the relation should be viewed as a result and consequence of that perfection, in the sense that the relation subsists by virtue of Its substance and the perfection belonging to It, where the relation is viewed as necessarily resulting from and consequential to what has the substance so described. [ 3 5 ] Homonymous terms that apply to the First and something else include those that apply generally to all existing beings and those that are homonyms for some of them. In the case of many homonyms applied to It and something else, such a term designates Its perfection primarily and something else secondarily, according to its order of existence from the First. For example, the terms "existent" and "one" primarily des­ ignate that by virtue of which the First is substance, and then secondarily anything else on the strength of the fact that its substance derives from the First, that its existence is acquired and received from the First. [ 36] In the case of many homonyms that designate the substance and existence of the First, if they desig-

The Principles of Existing Things nate something else, they designate whatever one imagines to be similar, whether very much so or just a little, to the First Existence. :\"ow, these terms are ap­ plied to the First in the most prior and true manner and to anything else only by posteriority, but it is not unac­ ceptable if our application of these terms to the First came after our application of them to something else­ for clearly our application of many of them to the First is only by way of transferring them from something else to It and after we had applied them to something else for a time- because it is impossible for what is prior by nature and existence to be posterior in time and for any deficiency to be associated with what is prior. [37] �ow, since we have numerous terms that des­ ignate particular perfections commonly accepted by us, and many of them we use simply to designate those perfections as particular perfections and not as species of perfection, clearly the most excellent perfection of them all is necessarily most deserving of that term. Every perfection among existing beings that we per­ cei,·e to be more complete we consider more worthy of the term [perfection], until we arrive at the knowledge of what constitutes the upper limit of that perfection and we naturally call It, that is, the First, by that term, and we then rank all other beings according to their re­ lation to that term from the First. Examples of [such terms] are "existent" and "one." (We also havej other terms that designate one species of perfection to the ex­ clusion of another. Such species include whatever is in the substance of the First in the most excellent man­ ner that the species can be, and is so elevated in the estimation to the highest level of perfection of that species that absolutely no deficiency remains. Exam­ ples of such terms are "knowledge," "intellect," and "wisdom." With such terms, it necessarily follows that the term for that species is most appropriately and truly applied to [the First]. In the case of any species of per­ fection that is associated with a deficiency and a cer­ tain diminution of existence, and whose separation from what is associated with it would eliminate its sub­ stance completely, the term for that species of perfec­ tion should not be applied [to the First]. Since this is the case, it is as inappropriate as applying terms that designate diminished existence [to the First]. (38] After the First Cause, there are the secondary causes and the Active Intellect. The secondary causes

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arc ranked i n order o f existence, besides which each of them not only has an existence through which it is a substance in itself but also an existence proper to it that is the very same existence from which it bestows the existence of another thing. They do not require anything else apart from themselves in order for some­ thing else to exist from them or to bestow the existence of something else from their existence, whereas all of them derive their existence from the First. Each one of them intellects the First and itself, since none of them is capable in itself of finding joy in itself by itself alone; instead, it finds joy in itself by intellecting the First while intellccting itself. The relation of the ex­ cellence of the First to the excellence of (a given sec­ ondary cause, x] is commensurate with the joy that x takes in intellecting the First in relation to the joy x lakes in intellecting itself. Equally, the comparison of the pleasure it finds in itself by intellecting the First to the pleasure it finds in itself through intellecting it­ self is commensurate with the additional excellence of the First in relation to the excellence of itself. So too in the case of its delight through itself and its desire of itself where the object of love and the object of delight it has initially is what it intellects of the First and sec­ ondarily what it intellects of itself. The First, then, in relation to these is again the First Beloved and the First Desired. � 39] All of these [secondary causes] are divisible in a certain way. The perfection and deficiency in each of them, and [consequently] what each ofthem should be called, is easy following this model, when we apply that to what was said about the First. Each of these sec­ ondary causes has received from the outset the com­ plete measure of the existence it has, and there is no remaining existence due it that might come to it in the future and toward which it would strive, besides what was provided it at the outset. Consequently, they have not been set in motion and do not strive toward any­ thing whatsoever, but each one does bestow the exis­ tence of each heaven from its existence. So there follows from the first of them the existence of the first heaven all the way down to the last heaven containing the �oon. The substance of each heaven is composed of two things: of a subject and of a soul. Despite the fact that the soul that is in each of them is something existing in a subject, it is the parts of the soul that is an

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actual intellect in that it intellects itself, intellects the other [secondary cause J from which it derives its exis­ tence, and intellects the First. [ 40] The substances of the celestial bodies are di­ vided, in as much as they are substances, into many things. They are in the first rank of the ranks of beings that are deficient, due to the fact that the thing3 by virtue of which they are actually substances requires a certain subject. Thus they resemble the substances that are composed of matter and form. �oreover, they are insufficient in their substances for anything else to come about from them. The degree of their perfection and excellence certainly does not reach the point that any effect on another would issue from them unless something external to their substances and to the things that constitute their substances comes about for them. The thing external to what constitutes their sub­ stances [and] part of the existents is quantity or qual­ ity or other such categories. As a result of that each of these substances possesses determinate size, shape, other determinate qualities, and the rest of the cate­ gories that necessarily result from these. Each of them, however, possesses only the most excellent of these [categories J . Subsequent to that, they possess the place most excellent for them, since it follows necessarily that every body is delimited by a determinate place. These substances have also received already nearly all of their existence, with but a little of it remaining, since they are not such as to receive it entirely all at once from the outset; rather, there is always a little more for them in the future. Thus they strive to ac­ quire it, and they acquire it only by eternal motion. Therefore, they are in motion eternally and without interruption. They are in motion toward and strive for the best of their existence. As regards what is most noble and what most approximates the most noble in terms of their existence, that is what they have re­ ceived in full from the outset. The subject of each one cannot receive another form different from the one present in it from the very outset. Consequently, their substances have no contraries. [ 41 J The existents below the celestial bodies are at the lowest degree of deficiency in terms of existence,

3. I.e., the soul.

because they did not receive fully at the outset all of what constitutes their substance. Instead, the substances that they received are merely in a state of remote po­ tentiality, not actuality, since they received only their prime matter. Consequently, they forever move toward the form that will give them substance. Prime matter can potentially be all of the substances under heaven. In a certain respect, then, they are substances in po­ tentiality that are always in motion toward becoming substance in actuality. Their posteriority and dimin­ ished existence is of such a degree that they are inca­ pable of even undertaking on their own behalf any effort to acquire their self-perfection in the absence of an external mover. What sets them in motion from without is the celestial body and its parts and then the Active Intellect; for both of these together perfect the existence of things below the celestial body. [ 42] The substance, nature, and activity of the ce­ lestial body is such that there immediately follows from it the existence of prime matter. It then gives prime matter whichsoever of the forms that is in its na­ ture, possibility, and predisposition to receive. The Ac­ tive Intellect is disposed in its nature and substance to examine everything that the celestial body prepares and gives, and whatever is receptive in one way to be­ ing freed and separated from matter, it frees from mat­ ter and privation, as a result of which [that thing] comes to be closest in rank to it. [This means J that the intelligibles that are potential become actual intelligi­ bles, and, as a result of that, the intellect that was a po­ tential intellect becomes an actual intellect. Humans alone can become like that, and this is the ultimate happiness, that is, the most excellent perfection that humans can reach . It is as a result of the agency of [the celestial body and the active intellectJ that the exis­ tence of the things that came after4 is rendered perfect, and their emergence into existence is made requisite by virtue of the ways through which they are brought into existence as well as by virtue of the ways through which thev can have eternal existence. [43] The celestial bodies are numerous. They move variously in circular fashion around the Earth. 4. I.e., the existence of the human souls, which came after the existence of the celestial bodies and the Active Intellect.

The Principles of Existing Things A]l are connected to the power of the first heaven, which is one, and consequently they all move by virtue ofthe motion of the first heaven. They have other pow­ ers by virtue of which they are distinct from one an­ other and because of which their motions differ. A necessary result of the power common to the whole celestial body is the existence of the prime matter common to everything below the heaven, and a nec­ essary result of the things by virtue of which [the ce­ lestial bodies] are distinct from one another is the existence of many different forms in prime matter. As a consequence of their different positions in relation to one another and to the Earth, they are made to ap­ proach something sometimes and recede from it at others, to be in conjunction with one another some­ times and to be in opposition at others, to be visible sometimes and occluded at others, to happen to speed up sometimes and to slow down at others. These con­ trary features are not attributable to their substances but to their positions relative to one another, to the Earth, or to both. [44] It is a necessary result of these contrary fea­ tures that are a consequence of their relative posi­ tions, that contrary forms come to be in prime matter, and contrary accidents and alterations come to be i n the bodies below the celestial body. This i s the first cause for the contraries found in prime matter and in the bodies below the heaven. [This is so] because con­ trary things exist in matter either on account of con­ trary things or on account of one thing that has no contrary in its essence and substance. :\1atter can be in contrary states and relations, and while the celes­ tial bodies are not themselves subject to contrariety in their substances, their relations to prime matter are contrary relations, since they are in contrary states rel­ ative to it. So it is through prime matter and the con­ trary forms necessarily existing that possibly existing things come together. [45 ] Possibly existing things are the latterly existing things that are most deficient in terms of existence. They are a mix of existence and nonexistence because, between what cannot not exist and what cannot exist­ which two are the absolute extremes- there is some­ thing for which the opposite of both holds true, that is, the thing that can exist and can not exist. This is what is a mix ofexistence and nonexistence, namely, the ex-

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istent to which nonexistence is opposed but with which a certain privation is associated, privation being the nonexistence of what can exist. [46] :\'ow, since the "possibly existent" is one of the two modes of the existent, and "possible existence" is one of the two modes of existence, the First Cause, whose existence in Its substance bestows the existence not only of what cannot not exist but also of what can not exist, is such that there is no mode of existence but that It gives it. The nature of the possibly existent is such that it simply cannot have a single determinate existence; rather, it can exist as F and not, and it can exist as x and its opposite. Its actuality with respect to both of the opposing existences is one and the same, and its being this existent is no more likely than i ts being the opposite o f this existent- "opposite" here is either a privation or a contrary or both of them to­ gether. Therefore, it necessarily follows that existents opposing one another can exist. This can happen in only three ways: either at two different times; or at one time from two different perspectives; or there are two things each one of which exists as an opposite of the other. A single thing can be two mutually opposing ex­ istents only in two ways: either at two different times, or from two different perspectives. [47] It is only through contrary forms that there are mutually opposing existents. The occurrence of some­ thing as one of two contraries is its settled existence. What allows for the two contrary existences is matter. So it is through matter that the existence the thing will have is unsettled, whereas it is through form that its ex­ istence will be settled. [The thing], then, has two ex­ istences: a settled existence through one thing and an unsettled existence through another thing. Therefore, its existence by virtue of its matter is to be at one time this and at another time not-this, and its existence by virtue of its form is to be this only and not its opposite. It necessarily follows, then, that it is given two exis­ tences, one when considered with respect to this at one time, and one with respect to not-this at another. [48] The "possible" can be viewed in two ways. One is what is possible to be x and to be not-x - this is mat­ ter. The other is what is possible to exist per se and to not exist- this is the composite of matter and form. The possibly existing things have the following orders. The lowest order comprises what has not had any settled

2 34

Al-Farabr, c.870-950

existence, not even through one of two contraries ­ this is prime matter. The second order comprises those things that have settled existence by virtue of contraries occurring in prime matter- these are the elements. \\'hen these come to have particular forms, they thereby acquire the possibility of being other equally contrary existences, in which case they be­ come matters for additional forms, until, when they come to have those secondary forms also, they there­ by come to have the possibility of being again still other contrary existences by virtue of still other con­ trary forms, in which case those also become matters for still other forms until, when they come to have those forms also, they thereby come to have the possi­ bility of being again still other contrary existences, in which case they become matters for still other forms. It continues like this until it reaches forms by virtue of which the existents that are becoming settled cannot become matters for still other forms. The forms of those existents, then, are those of each form that pre­ ceded. These last existents are the most noble of the possibly existing things, while prime matter is the low­ est of the possibly existing things. [ 49] The existents falling between these two also have an order. Everything closer to prime matter is more debased and everything closer to the form of the forms is nobler. Prime matter exists to belong to some­ thing else, having absolutely no existence on its own. Consequently, when that for the sake of which it was brought into being does not exist, neither does it. For this reason, when one of these forms does not exist, it does not exist. Thus, it is impossible for prime matter to exist separate from a given form at any time at all. In the case of the existents whose form is the form of the forms, they exist always for the sake of themselves, and it is impossible that through their forms they would be brought into being for the sake of anything else- I mean so that something else could have sub­ stance through them and that they would be matters for something else. [ 50] In the case of the intermediate existents, they are brought into being sometimes for their own sake and sometimes for the sake of something else. :\'ext, each one of them has adaptive and reticent [qualities] through its matter, and adaptive and reticent [ quali-

ties J through its form. 5 \\'hat it has by virtue of its m at­ ter is that it will become something else contrary to the existence that it has; what it has by virtue of its form is that it remain in the existence it has and not cease. \\'hen there are two contrary reticent [qualities ], the state of equilibrium is that [the existent] receive each of its two measures in full, existing for a time as one particular thing, then being finished, and existing for a time as something contrary to the first existence, re­ maining that way for a time and then being finished , and existing as something else contrary to the former, and so on forever. Furthermore, the matter of each of these contrary existents is the matter of its opposite, so with each of them there is something that belongs to another and something that belongs to itself, since they share in common their primary matters. Thus, it is almost as though, from this perspective, each one has an adaptive [quality] each of which ought to go to one from the other. The state of equilibrium in that is clear: what each one has should belong to the other so that both receive their full measure. [ 5 1 ] :\'ow, since the possible existents are not suffi­ cient in themselves to strive on their own behalf for their remaining existence -not only have they received just prime matter, but also once they come to be they are incapable of maintaining their existences for them­ selves and, moreover, when the fair measure of their existence is with their opposite they cannot on their own strive to claim their full worth - it necessarily fol­ lows that each has an external agent that sets it in mo­ tion and directs it toward what it is due and to what will maintain the existence it has. The primary agent 5. We speculate that l)aqq wa-istla[ translates the Greek euorizon kai dusorizon ("easily determined and difficultly determined") from Aristotle's .\l!eteorology (4. 1 , 378b24,

and 4. 3 and 4 ), whose context loosely follows the context that ai-Fa rab! presents in our text. In the .\1eteorology Ar­ istotle distinguished between active powers, hot and cold, and passive powers, moist and dry. The active powers are associated with the form and the passive powers with the matter. He further divides these powers into powers that are determined easily- hot and moist- and po\\·ers that are determined with di ffic ulty, which by implication (but left unstated by Aristotle) would be cold and dry.

The Principles of Existing Things that directs them toward their forms, and maintains it for them once they have it, is the celestial body and its parts. It does that in the following ways. One, it sets each one of them in motion, without intermediary or instrument, toward the form by virtue of which each exists. Two, it gives matter the potential whereby on its own it can undertake to move toward the form by virtue of which it exists. Three, it provides a certain thing with a potential whereby that thing can set some­ thing else in motion toward the form by virtue of which that other thing exists. Four, it gives a certain thing a potential whereby that thing can provide something else with a potential through which it sets in motion that other as a particular matter moving toward the form whose nature is to exist in the matter. In this, it will have set matter in motion by means of two things. Equally, it may set matter in motion through three things and more in this sequence. [52] Likewise, it gives each possible existent the means to maintain its existence, either by providing, along with the form by virtue of which it exists, some other potential, or by putting the means for maintain­ ing its existence in another body apart from it, in which case its existence is maintained by that other body that was made for this one. That other body is the servant of this one in maintaining its existence for it. The maintenance of its existence is either through one body serving it or through the help of numerous bod­ ies disposed to facil itate the maintenance of its exis­ tence. In addition to that, many bodies have associated with them another potential through which they can make out of matter things similar to themselves by giv­ ing them forms similar to their own. [ 5 3 ] Often the agent finds these matters to contain forms that are contrary to the forms toward which the agent is accustomed to set them in motion, in which case another potential is needed to eliminate those contrary forms. Also, since it is certainly not impossi­ ble for something else to act on it the way it acts on something else in order to try to eradicate it the way it eradicates something else, it follows that there is an­ other potential in these [matters] to resist the contrary that seeks to destroy it. The thing by which it elimi­ nates something else and detaches it from the form through which it exists may be a potential in itself con-

23 5

nected to the form through which it exists, but often that potential is in another body apart from it, in which case that potential is either an instrument or servant for it in extracting the matter disposed to it from the contraries of that body. An example of this is vipers, for this species is an instrument or servant of the elements in extracting from other animals the matters for the el­ ements. 6 Likewise, the potential through which it pro­ duces out of matters something similar to itself in species may be connected to its form in one body, or it may be in another body apart from itself, like the sperm of the male animal, for it serves as its instru­ ment. These potentials are also forms in the bodies to which these potentials belong, but there are things similar to these belonging to others - I mean that they are brought into being as instruments or servants for something else. When these instruments are con­ nected to the forms in a single body, they are insepa­ rable instruments, and when they are in other bodies they are separate instruments. [ 54] Each of these existents has a reticent quality by virtue of its matter and a reticent quality by virtue of its form. The reticent quality that is through its mat­ ter is an existence contrary to the one it has. The reti­ cent quality through its forms is the existence it has either on its own account, or on account of something else, or the reticent quality it has through its form is that it have something else - I mean to have some­ thing else brought into being for it-or that it have a type of unity that combines both, that is, that it be for its own sake for the sake of something else, in which case part of it will be for its own sake and part will be used for the sake of something else. That which is for the sake of something else by virtue of its form is either its matter, or an instrument or servant for it. That which has something else brought into being for it has it brought into being for it either as matter or an in­ strument or servant of it. [ 5 5 ] The first thing to come into existence from the celestial bodies and the differences in their motions is the elements, then the minerals, then the plants, then the nonrational animals, and finally the rational ani-

6. See par. 64 for further details.

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mal, with the individuals of each species coming into being with modes of the powers too numerous to count. :\ow these powers that are put in each species are not sufficient in themselves to act and maintain the exis­ tence [of their species] , unless the celestial bodies, again through the types of their motions, aid one an­ other and prevent one another from acting in such an alternate and sequential fashion that when one aids another against its contrary for a time, it then prevents it at another time by aiding its contrary, for example, by a certain increase in heat or coldness or a decrease of one or the other in something that acts or is affected by heat or coldness, for they sometimes increase one and sometimes decrease it. As for the bodies below [the celestial bodies]. due to the fact that they share in common prime matter and much of their proximate matters and because some have forms similar to some and contrary to others, some of them aid one another and hinder others, whether for the most part, or rarely, or equally, depending on the similarity or contrariety of their powers; for the contrary one hinders and the similar one aids, and these actions come together and combine in the possible existents, and from them di­ verse mixtures come to be. [ 56] Once [the mixtures] combine, however, they move into a combination, a harmonious balance, and a just distribution through which each existent re­ ceives the fair measure of existence naturally allotted to it, commensurate with either its matter, or its form, or both. The measure commensurate with its form is either for the sake of itself, or something else, or both. With the rational animal, however, the measure it re­ ceives according to its form is not for the sake of any other species, neither as matter, nor as instrument, nor servant. [In general, however]. each of the existents [below the celestial bodies receives a measure] by virtue of its form, either for the sake of something else only, or through a combination of existence for its own sake and existence for the sake of something else, al­ though it would be just that it receive each of its two measures in full. All of these things occur either equally, or for the most part, or but rarely. Whatever is generated but rarely is a necessarily unavoidable fea­ ture of the nature of the possible existent and intro­ duces nothing strange. In this manner and by this process, the possible existents are so equitably regu-

lated and ordered that each one receives the measure of existence commensurate with its reticent quality. [ 57] The activities of the celestial bodies are some­ times contrary to the powers of acting and maintain­ ing that the possible existents have received, in which case the possible existents are not affected by those ac­ tions. Equally, however, the celestial bodies may pre­ vent one possible existent from acting on another, when one is weaker than the other. Thus, the possible existents that have such powers of action may not act, either because of their weakness, or because contrary actions prevent them, or because the power of their contraries is too great, or because their contraries are aided by something external to them but with similar forms, or because another contrary thing opposes the action of the agent from another direction. In the case of the celestial bodies, they sometimes do not have an effect on [the sublunar world]. and no action of theirs that is directed at the subjects below them may result, but not on account of any feebleness in them, but rather because their subjects are prevented from re­ ceiving their actions, or because one of the possible ex­ istents acts as an agent to help and strengthen their subjects [against the action]; for the possible existents are able to produce actions both contrary or similar to the celestial beings-whether or not the celestial beings, after giving them those powers, aid or oppose them - as long as they received their powers at the out­ set and refrained from acting on others. [ 5 8] These bodies that are possible existents by na­ ture include the following categories: what exists for its own sake and is not employed in any other thing, not even for a given action to issue from it; what is prepared to produce a given action, either in itself or in some­ thing else; and what is prepared to receive the action of something else. The type that is brought into being for its own sake and for nothing else whatsoever may pro­ duce a particular action as a bestowal of its existence on something else. For all of these, once they exist in such a way that there can issue from them whatever can issue from them without anything of their own OJr posing it, that state of their being is their final perfec­ tion. (An example of this is the state of vision when it sees. ) When they are in a certain state of existence such that nothing more can issue from them as a result of that state without their being moved to an existence

The Principles of Existing Things more perfect than what they have now, then that state is their first perfection. An example of this is the rela­ tion between the sleeping writer in terms ofwriting and his state when awake, or like the relation between bs state with regard to writing when he is exhausted and resting and his state with regard to it when he is actu­ ally writing. Whenever something is at its final perfec­ tion and that thing is such that a given action can issue from it, its action is not delayed and comes out of it in­ stantaneously. The action of something at its final per­ fection is delayed only by something apart from itself hindering it, like, for instance, sunlight being blocked from something hidden by a wall . Things that are se� arate from matter are in their substances at their final perfection from the very beginning and cannot be di­ vided into two states, one in which it would be at its first perfection, the other in which it would be at its final perfection. Because they have neither contraries nor subjects, there is nothing to hinder them in any way. Therefore, their actions are not delayed. [59] The celestial bodies are, in their substances, always in a state of final perfection. What first issues from them are their actual sizes, magnitudes, the con­ figurations of their relative distances from one another, and everything else they possess that is not subject to change. What next issues from them are their mo­ tions, which come out of their final perfections and in which they have no contraries and no external oppo­ sites. Therefore, their motions are never interrupted, not even for an instant. [60] The possibly existing bodies are sometimes in their first perfections and sometimes in their final per­ fections. Because there is a contrarv to each one of them, their actions can be delayed for both of these reasons or for one; for the writer does not produce an action either because he is sleeping, or engaged in something else, or because the various elements in­ volved in writing are not called to his attention at that time, or because everything involved is completely present but there is an external obstacle. The aim of the existence of all these is to be in their final perfec­ tions. The final perfection of anything that is in its first perfection by nature and not by force is obtained from [nature] only because there is either an unimpeded way to [the final perfection] or because there is some­ thing to aid it, for instance, the animal sleeps or rests

237

from action after being exhausted, whereby it recovers the power to act. [ 6 1 ] .\ltoreover, the deficiency of these [possibly ex­ isting bodies] is of such a degree that they are inca­ pable of achieving their [final] perfections through their substances alone, without other [ modes of exis­ tence] from the rest of the categories external to their substances, and that is by having size, shape, position, and the rest of the categories, such as being hard or soft, hot or cold, etc. :\ow, the individuals arrayed under many of these species subsist on the basis of sim­ ilar parts, but their shapes are indeterminate, for ex­ ample, the elements and the mineral bodies, whose shapes depend on the chance action of their efficient cause or on the shapes of things that contain them. Equally, the magnitudes of their sizes are indetermi­ nate, though they do not have an infinite [variety of] sizes. Their parts are sometimes combined and some­ times separated; there are some that become continu­ ous [bodies] when [their partsJ are combined in one place, and others whose [parts J come into contact only and do not become continuous. TI1e separation and combination [of their parts] does not occur in a set or­ der but in a chance manner depending on the agent that combines and separates them. Consequently, the individuals under each of these species are distinct from one another not by necessity but rather by chance, because their perfections result regardless of whatever state these accidents in them happen to be. So these things [all j have equal possibility. [ 62 ] In the case of plants and animals, however, the individuals under each species are distinct from one another by nature, and each is singular through an ex­ istence that docs not belong to another. 'I1ms, their in­ dividuals have number by nature. Each one of them is a composite of dissimilar parts of determinate number, and each part has determined size, shape, quality, po­ sition, and level. As we have stated, the genera of pos­ sibly existing things have different levels of existence, the lowest helping the highest in the possible existence of each one. The elements aid the others through all of their parts in three ways: as matter, and by being servants and instruments. The mineral bodies aid the remainder, but not in every one of their species nor through every manner of help; rather one species [aids] as matter, another species by being servant to it (for

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example, mountains with respect to the generation of water's trickling down from springs), and another species by being instruments. The species of plants of­ ten aid animals in these three ways, and so too the non­ rational animals aid the rational animal in these three ways; for some of them help as matter, some by being servants, and others by being instruments. [63] With the rational animal, however, since there is no species of possible beings more noble than it, it provides none of the three types of help to anything nobler than it. [This is so] because, by virtue of rea­ son7 it does not serve as matter for anything whatso­ ever, whether above or below it, nor as instrument for anything other than it at all, nor by virtue of nature is it servant to anything else. As for whether it aids any­ thing else in as much as it is rational, then it is by virtue of reason and volition, not by virtue of nature, that it aids other possible beings, and the individuals of its species aid one another (let us postpone talk of that now); for the actions of [the rational animal] might ac­ cidentally serve the purposes of many other natural things- namely, directing the flow of water, culti­ vating trees, planting seeds, breeding and herding animals -but it is not by virtue of nature that [any ra­ tional animal] serves a species other than its own, nor does it possess by nature anything through which an­ other species may be served, nor are any of them by nature an instrument for another species. In the cate­ gory of help from the noblest genera of possible things to the lowest, however, as we said, no rational animal serves or aids any lesser species, where that would be by virtue of its form . This is what should be understood when we talk about species helping other species. [64] With the nonrational animal, in as much as it is an animal, it is not matter for anything lesser than it; for none of them, by virtue of its form, is matter for plants. It is not impossible, however, for it to help by being a servant or instrument. In fact, some animals are brought into being by nature to serve the elements by dissolving things distantly removed from them [in

7. Nutq (literally, the power of speech).

composition] into [the elements] ; for example, poi­ sonous animals that by nature are enemies of other species of animal, like the viper that serves the ele­ ments through its poison by breaking down species of animals into [the elements] . A similar example is the poison in plants and, [ in this case] , they are poisons relatively, so that species aids two things. One should know that predatory animals are not like vipers, be­ cause the poison of vipers is not fit to be nutritious to other animals; on the contrary, [vipers] are hostile by nature to all species of animals in as much as they seek to destroy them. Predatory animals, on the other hand, instinctively kill not because of a natural enmity but because they seek nutrition. Vipers are not like that. [ Finally], in the case of mineral bodies, in as much as they are such, they are not matter for the elements, but they do aid them by being their instrument, the way the mountain aids in the generation of water. [6;] [ For the purposes of survival] , the species of plants and animals include the following !}pes. There are those species that cannot obtain what they need to survive unless they all come together as a group of in­ dividuals. There are other species in which each indi­ vidual might achieve what is necessary for survival even if some individuals remain apart, but they will not collectively arrive at what is best for them unless they all come together as a group. In other species, every individual might achieve in full both what is necessary for survival as well as what is best, even if some individuals remain apart from the others, al­ though if they do come together as a group, no indi­ vidual prevents another from having what it has. In other species, if they come together as a group, they do hinder one another from obtaining either what is nec­ essary to survival or what is best, and consequently in some species of animals the individuals always stay away from one another even for procreation (for in­ stance, many species of sea animals). In other species, the individuals do not keep apart from one another ex­ cept for procreation. Finally, with other species the in­ dividuals never keep apart in anything, like ants and bees and many others, like the birds that feed and fly together in flocks.

Ibn Sina (Avicenna), 980- 1 0 3 7

Of the Aristotelians in the Islamic East Ibn Sina was

easily the most important, and even in the Islamic West only Ibn Rushd was his equal. Physician, scientist, man of affuirs, and philosopher, he formulated a distinctive kind of Aristotelianism which is characterized by a strong reliance on neoplatonic notions. A number of his most important doctrines have a naturalistic color­ ing, but at the same time a certain religious feeling­ possibly even mystical inclination- is not lacking from his thought. Al-Ghazali (see page 265) branded a num­ ber of his doctrines as incompatible with Islamic be­ liefs, while Ibn Rushd (see page 285) charged him with having surrendered to theological considerations on certain crucial philosophical points. The Islamic West came to prefer a more rigorous, less neoplatonic kind ofAristotelianism, but in the Islamic East Ibn Sina re­ mained the favorite well into the seventeenth century. In the Christian world his teachings were well known. Etienne Gilson has argued that they provided the de­ cisive philosophical influence during the first half of the thirteenth century and, according to the same scholar, they were blended with Augustinian notions to yield an "Avicennizing Augustinianism." Albertus Magnus, Roger Bacon, Thomas Aquinas, and Duns Scotus were scholastics influenced by him in varying degrees. Jewish philosophers knew and used his teach­ ings, but Ylaimonides considered them inferior to those of al-Farabi, and in the post-Yiaimonidean period Ibn Rushd became, next to Ylaimonides, the decisive philosophical influence. Ibn Sina wrote on all the branches of Aristotelian philosophy, but in a sense he was first and foremost a metaphysician. Describing his particular kind of meta­ physics, Afnan writes: "If it be said that the central el-

ement of Platonic metaphysics is the theory of Ideas, and that of the Aristotelian is the doctrine of poten­ tiality and actuality, that of the Avicennian is the study of being as being." 1 "Being," according to Ibn Sina, is the first concept acquired by the mind and, though the world provides a clue to it, introspection is quite ade­ quate for its discovery. The famous argument of the "flying man" is among those advanced for this view. Let us imagine, this argument proceeds, a grown man, created suddenly, possessing all his powers. Let us imagine further that his eyes are covered, that he is suspended in empty space, and that his limbs are sep­ arated so that they do not touch each other. A man of this description would have no sensory experience of the world, nor of his body and its parts, but he would know that he exists. It follows then, that, given a think­ ing mind, knowledge of "being" and (important for psychology) awareness of"self' are given concurrently with it. Ibn Sina's "flying man" found an echo in Descartes' statement "I think, therefore I am." The knowledge of "being" is immediate and no other notion is prior to it. Hence "being" is not a species which can be defined, nor is it a genus. Yet certain dis­ tinctions are given concomitant with it. One such is that between essence and existence. Examining the world, the mind discovers substances in which essence and existence are combined, but, at the same time, it can think essences without having the simultaneous judgment that these essences exist other than in it. In fact, the mind can think essences that do not now

l. S. YI. Afnan, Avicenna, His Life and Works (London: Allen & Unwin, 1958), p. 1 08. 2 39

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exist and even essences that can never exist. The ques­ tion "what is it?" differs from "does it exist?" and it follows that essence and existence are ontologically distinct. Existence, according to Ibn Srna, is super­ added to essence or, in alternative language, it is its accident. Whether Ibn Srna derived this and the fol­ lowing distinction from al-Farabr or from an even ear­ lier source, they became associated with his name. Another distinction concurrent with "being" is that between necessary and possible existence. Something is said to be necessary if from the assumption of its nonexistence an impossibility will follow, while some­ thing is said to be possible if no impossibility will fol­ low, whether it is assumed to exist or not to exist. �ecessary being is subdivided into what is necessary through itself and what is necessary through another. Something possible requires a necessary cause for its existence and so does what is necessary through an­ other. Only something necessary through itself exists without a cause. These metaphysical distinctions lead to Ibn Srna's famous proof for the existence of God, according to which the possible beings in the world ul­ timately require, in order to exist, a being necessary through itself. :'viaimonides and Aquinas (see page 469) accepted this proof by Ibn Srna, while Ibn Rushd rejected it. In his description of the attributes of God, Ibn Srna is generally considered the champion of negative at­ tribution. But as H . A. Wolfson has shown, his position is more complex. Certain attributes, such as "sub­ stance" and "one," are to be i nterpreted as negations; others, such as "first," "powerful," and "living" as rela­ tions in the sense of actions; and still others, such as "willing" and "generous" as both negations and rela­ tions. In H is relation to the world God is its creator. Following al-Farabr, Ibn Sina identifies creation with the neoplatonic notion of emanation. Possessed of fullness of being, God, thinking Himself, produces a first intelligence. Considered in itself, this intelli­ gence is possible; considered in respect to God, it is necessary. In God, thinker, thinking, and thought are one, while in the first intelligence they are distinct. From the first intelligence there emanates a second in­ telligence together with the soul and body of the all­ encompassing sphere which this intelligence controls. When the first intelligence thinks of God, its neces-

sary source, the second intelligence proceeds from it; when it thinks of itself as necessary through its cause, it produces the soul of the all-encompassing sphere; and when it thinks of itself as possible, it gives rise to the body of that sphere. In similar fashion there arise successively the intelligences, souls, and bodies of the remaining eight celestial spheres, the process coming to an end with the tenth intelligence, which governs the sublunar sphere. As Giver of Forms, this intelli­ gence provides sublunar matter with its forms, while as Agent Intellect it produces knowledge in the hu­ man mind. Creation, then, is the bestowing of exis­ tence on a possible world by God, its necessary cause. God, according to Ibn Slna, is contemporaneous with the world, and He produces it out of the necessity of H is own nature. There seems to be little doubt that Ibn Srna considered this doctrine a legitimate interpreta­ tion of the Qur'anic notion of creation. However, ai­ Ghazalr rejected it as contrary to Qur'anic teachings, while Ibn Rushd saw in it a concession to theological considerations. Ibn Srna's account of creation as the bestowing of existence yields a distinction between two kinds of efficient causes. One of these is a meta­ physical efficient cause which, synchronous with what it causes, bestows existence; the other is a physical ef­ ficient cause which, temporally prior to what it causes, produces change and motion. Ibn Srna describes the world in Aristotelian terms, but at the same time he introduces modifications of his own. Among typical Avicennian doctrines are his definition of the "corporeal form" as a form having a predisposition for receiving the three dimensions and his contention that the celestial substances are com­ posed of a soul inhering in the celestial body and an intelligence existing in separation from it. Both of these doctrines were criticized by Ibn Rushd (see page 285) later on. It also appears that Ibn Srna subscribed to the doctrine of the "multiplicity of forms" according to which lower forms remain in the presence of forms that are higher. In his conception of the human soul Ibn Srna com­ bined Aristotelian with Platonic notions. With the Aristotelians he held that the soul comes into being with its body and that, in respect to its operations, it is the body's form; but with the Platonists he affirmed the substantiality of the individual soul. Immortality, for

Ibn Srna (Avicenna), 980-1037 him, consists of the continuous existence of the actu­ alized human mind, and immortality is individual. He interprets the Qur'anic notion of the resurrection of the body figuratively, considering it an accommoda­ tion to the understanding of the masses. His theory of knowledge is that of the :vluslim Aristotelians, modi­ fied by a kind of doctrine of "illumination." Human knowledge begins with the perception of the senses, proceeds from there to the imagination, then to the faculty of estimation, and, through the causal action of the Agent Intellect, is acquired by the mind. Within the mind four stages of intellection or four kinds of mind may be discerned. As a faculty capable of re­ ceiving knowledge, the human mind is the "material" or "possible intellect"; as possessing knowledge which is not actually thought, it is the "habitual intellect"; as thinking in actuality, it is the "actual intellect"; and as receiving forms from the Agent Intellect, it is the "ac­ quired intellect," Though, according to this scheme, knowledge has its origin in sense perception, all the stages of cognition prior to the "acquired intellect" are only preparatory, true knowledge consisting of the ra­ diation offorms by the Agent Intellect into the human mind. :vlost men acquire knowledge in the manner described, but lhere are singular individuals who can gain the influence of the Agent Intellect intuitively without much preparation. This intuition becomes important for Ibn Sina's doctrine of prophetic inspira­ tion. For though he agrees with other :vluslim philoso­ phers in considering the prophet as legislator and governor of men (see page 2 1 7) , he emphasizes the importance of the knowledge gained by prophetic in­ tuition. In some of his later works, Ibn Sina turns to a description of mystical teachings, analyzing the stages of the mystic's path and the journey of the soul toward God. It is clear that he is primarily interested in mys­ tical speculation rather than in ascetic and devotional practices. However, interpreters disagree about the re­ lation of these mystical doctrines to the remainder of his thought. Abu 'Ali ai-I:Iu�ayn ibn Sina was born in 980 in M­ shana, in what is now part of Uzbekistan. His father was the governor of the district, but while Ibn Sina was still a child the family moved to Bukhara. There he re­ ceived his education and spent the first period of h is life. His studies began with the Qur'an and Arabic lit-

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erature, continued with Islamic law, logic, and math­ ematics, and then turned to the natural sciences and metaphysics. Unusually gifted, Ibn Sina quickly sur­ passed his teachers and gained much of this knowl­ edge on his own. �ext he taught himself medicine, becoming an accomplished physician by the time he was sixteen. During the next eighteen months he re­ viewed and expanded his knowledge of philosophy, being so zealous in his studies that he did not get a full night's sleep during all this time. Though by now he was an accomplished philosopher, the content ofAris­ totle's Metaphysics still escaped him. He read the work forty times, but not until a bookseller provided him with a copy of al-Farabi's On the Objects of Meta­ physics did the content of the work become clear. When Ibn Sina's medical skills helped to cure Nul:t ibn Man�iir, the Samanid sultan ofBukhara, that ruler enrolled him in his service and made available to him his rich library containing many works that Ibn Sina had never seen. His patron died in 997 and with the end of the Samanid dynasty in 999 Ibn Sina's fortune began to change. For reasons possibly religious he was forced to leave Bukhara, and he spent the remainder of his life at the courts of various provincial rulers in the east­ ern part of the Caliphate of Bagdad, becoming in­ volved in their politics and their wars. After prolonged wanderings he settled at Raiy where he entered the service of the Buyid rulers ai-Saiyida and her son :vlajd ai-Dawlah . Becoming involved in the conflicts of the dynasty he shifted his allegiance to Shams ai-Dawlah, :vlajd ai-Dawlah's brother, and from about 1 0 1 ; to 1 022 he was at his court at Hamadhan. During this period Shams al-Dawlah twice appointed him as his vizier. When Shams ai-Dawlah died during a military campaign, his son laj al-Mulk wanted to continue Ibn Sina in his office, but Ibn Sina declined, entering into secret negotiations with 'Ala ai-Dawlah, the ruler of Isfahan. When Ibn Sina's plans became known, he was imprisoned, but he finally succeeded in fleeing to Isfahan. There he spent the remainder of his life, de­ clining a political post that he was offered. He died in 1 037. Though busy with professional duties, Ibn Sina was an extremely productive author. Over two hun­ dred works have been attributed to him, and of these

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probably about one hundred are his. His most i mpor­ tant medical work was the Canon (al-Qaniin), which in its Latin translation became the standard medical work in Europe until the seventeenth century. In phi­ losophy, his major work was The Cure (al-Shifa), a magisterial summa oflogic, physics, mathematics, and metaphysics. In this work Ibn Sina set down the parts of those sciences that he believed to be sound, without disputing with opponents. Through Latin translations of portions of his work Ibn Sina's views became known to the Christian world. Christian philosophers also knew his teachings through al-Chazali's summary in his The Opinions of the Philosophers (see page 265). An abbreviated version of The Cure is contained in his Salvation (al-Najat). Among his other works are On Definitions (Ff al-I:fudiid), Instructions and Remarks (al-Isharat wa-al-Tanbrhat), On Love (Ff al- 'Ishq), On Prayer (Ff al-Salat), I:layy ibn Yaqf{in, and Logic ofthe Orientals (Mantiq al-Mashriqfyfn). We have a biogra­ phy, part of which Ibn Sina dictated to his disciple al­ Juzjani and which the disciple completed on his own. Though most of Ibn Sina's works were written in Ara­ bic, he is also the author of works in Persian. In reading the following selections it should be kept in mind that Ibn Sina is a skillful dialectician who with great subtlety investigates the implications of certain fundamental notions and who at the same time probes their relation to related notions. In the metaphysical selections his arguments sound rather verbal at times and he appears to be primarily inter­ ested in logical distinctions, but these distinctions, it must be recalled, are for him metaphysical. Charac­ teristic of his method is the use of hypothetical, dis­ junctive arguments. The first selections, from The Salvation, "Meta­ physics," Book 2, explore the metaphysics of possibil­ ity and necessity and then tum to a proof that the existence of possible beings requires the existence of a necessary being. The l\ecessary Existent must be simple, a requirement that poses difficulties for un­ derstanding the :'>iecessary Existent's knowledge of beings that are subject to change; Ibn Sina explores these difficulties with considerable subtlety. There follows a selection from The Cure, "Metaphysics," Book 6, devoted to a discussion of causality. Enumerating the four Aristotelian causes - form, matter, agent, and

purpose - Ibn Sina distinguishes carefully between a metaphysical agent cause that bestows existence and a natural agent cause that produces motion. Two of the causes, the form and the matter, enter the subsistence of that of which they are causes, while two others, the purpose and the agent, do not. In addition, matter, considered as substratum, does not enter the subsis­ tence of that of which it is a cause. If matter is distin­ guished from the substratum, the causes are five; if the two are considered as one, the causes are four. Strictly speaking, matter is the principle of that which is com­ posed of matter and form, and so is form. The form is the formal cause of the composite, not of matter. The metaphysical agent is ontologically distinct from that which it causes, and even if the two happen to exist in the same substratum, such as the nature of wood in wood, the distinction is maintained. An agent can be such that it bestows existence only at some time, and in that case the agent requires some other cause that makes it to be an agent. ).;ow, when an agent produces something, three aspects of this process can be distinguished. There is the "existence" that comes to be, there is the "non-existence" that pre­ ceded, and there is the attribute of "existence after non-existence." Of these three properties only "exis­ tence" comes from a cause. ").;on-existence" is the re­ sult of the absence of a cause, while "existence after non-existence" cannot come from a cause at all. De­ veloping his notion of causality further, Ibn Sina shows next that something not only requires a cause in order to receive existence, but also in order to continue in existence. For if it would not require a cause for the continuation of its existence, then the existence which it receives must be either necessary existence or pos­ sible existence. In the latter case, the necessity of its continued existence belongs to it either through a con­ dition which is its coming into being, or an attribute of the quiddity which comes into being, or some at­ tribute separate from it. Each one of these alternatives is shown to be false, and hence continuation of exis­ tence requires a cause. ).;ext Ibn Slna shows once again that only the existence of something has a cause, not the fact that it "exists after it did not exist." Hence the bestowing of existence does not necessarily take place in time. Since ordinary people are unaware of the distinction between a metaphysical and a physical

Ibn Slnii (Avicenna), 980-- 1 037 acting cause, they believe that the action of every agent must take place in time. But acting in time is only accidental to an agent. Ibn Srna now turns to a difficulty occasioned by the bse o rvation that something produced by an agent con­ tinues to exist after the agent has ceased to act. From this observation it again seems to follow that some-­ thing caused does not require an agent for the contin­ uation of its existence. However, a careful analysis shows that the agent that ceases to act is not the real agent, but there exists an agent that continues to act even after the apparent agent ceases. For example, the builder is not the real cause for the production of the building; the real cause is the nature of the building materials, which makes them stay together. This na­ ture is produced by the Giver of Forms. :\ow causes are divisible into supporting and preparatory causes, which are accidental, and causes that are essentiaL The series of accidental causes must be infinite, the series of essential causes finite. An infinite series of accidental causes is possible because of motion. Of

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the essential causes, that which exists eternally and bestows existence eternally, thereby preventing non­ existence, is the best. This cause is God, and H is eter­ nally bestowing exi�tence is creation. If the term "coming into being" is applied in the sense that the cause is simultaneous with that which it causes, then everything other than God comes into being. How­ ever, if the term is limited to temporal coming into be-­ ing, then coming into being must be distinguished from being caused. Ibn Slna concludes by affirming that an agent that acts only accidentally requires a mat­ ter in which it acts and that an agent acts at times through itself, at times through a power. The third selection, taken from The Salvation, "Psy­ chology," 6 deals with aspects of the Avicennian doc­ trine of the souL Ibn S!na first shows that the soul which is the substrah1m for the intelligibles is not cor­ poreal , then that it comes into being with the body, and, finally, that it is immortaL In the final selection, taken from The Cure, "The Soul," 5, Ibn S!na presents a version of his celebrated "Aying man" argument.

1 9. The Salvation, "Metaphysics" Second Treatise 1 . Explaining the Senses of ;\! ecessary and Possible [ l ] The necessarily existent is the existent, which when posited as not existing, an absurdity results. The possibly existent is the one that, when posited as either existing or not existing, no absurdity results. The necessarily ex­ istent is the existence that must be, whereas the possibly existent is the one that has no "must" about it in any way, whether in terms of its existence or nonexistence. (This is what we mean by "possibly existent" in this context, although "possibly existent" sometimes means "in po­ tency," and "possible" is sometimes said of anything that in fact exists, as has been detailed in logic.) [2] :\ext, the necessarily existent may exist through itself or not through itself. What is necessarily existent through itself is that which is owing to itself, not to any other thing, that is, [not to another] thing that, positing its nonexistence, results in an absurdity. The necessarily existent not through itself is that which be­ comes necessarily existent if something other than it is set down. For example, four exists necessarily not through itself but only when positing two plus two; and burning exists necessarily not through itself but only when positing contact between the natural active power and the natural passive power; I mean, what causes burning and what is burned.

2 . The :\ecessary through I tself Cannot Be :'\ecessary through Another, and the :'\"ecessary through Another Is What Is Possible [ I J One thing cannot exist simultaneously as neces­ sary through itself and necessary through another. For if the other is removed or its existence not considered, From Classical Arabic Philosophy, tr. Jon \1cGinnis and David C . Reisman ( Indianapolis: Hackett Publish­ ing Company, 2007). Reprinted by permission of the publisher. 244

it must be the case that either the necessity of its exis­ tence remains unchanged, and so the necessity of its existence is not through another, or the necessity of its existence does not remain, and so the necessity of its existence is not through itself. [ 2] Whatever exists necessarily through another ex­ ists possibly in itself. [This is] because the necessity of the existence of whatever exists necessarily through another is a consequence of a given association and re­ lation, but consideration of the association and rela­ tion is different from consideration of the thing itself that has an association and relation. Thus, it is only by considering this association that the necessity of the existence can be determined. [ 3] In terms of the thing itself on its own, it is some­ thing that must exist necessarily, possibly or impossi­ bly. :\ow it cannot be something that must exist impossibly, because anything whose existence is im­ possible through itself is neither through itself nor through another. :\or is it something that must exist necessarily, for we have already said that whatever ex­ ists necessarily through itself simply cannot have the necessitv of its existence through another. So it re­ mains th at with respect to the thing itself, it exists pos­ sibly; with respect to introducing the association with that other, it exists necessarily; and with respect to dis­ rupting the association with that other, it exists impos­ sibly. It itself, however-in itself without condition­ exists possibly. 3 . Whatever Is :\ot :\ecessary Does :\ot Exist

[ I ] It is now clear that what exists necessarily through another exists possibly through itself. This is convert­ ible. Thus, everything existing possibly in itself- if in­ deed its existence has occurred - exists necessarily through another. [This follows] because either it in fact has actual existence or it does not. It is absurd, however, that it not in fact have actual existence [when it indeed exists], otherwise its existence would be impossible. So it remains that it in fact has actual existence. In that case, its existence is either necessary

The Salvation, ".\1etaphysics" or not necessary. If its existence is not necessary, and so it is still possible existence, then its existence is not distinguished from its nonexistence and there is no dif­ ference between this state in it and the first state. [This follows] because before existing it was possible exiY­ tence, and its present state is the same as it was. If one posits that a new state comes to be, then concerning that state the question stands, namely, does it exist pos­ sibly or necessarily? [2] If it is possible, and that state before was itself also possible, then nothing new came to be, whereas if the existence [of the new state] is necessary and it is made necessary for the first [possible existent], then the existence of a state has been made necessary for this first. But that [newJ state is nothing other than the emergence [of the thing] into existence, so [it is] its emergence into existence that is necessary. [3] Finally, the existence of whatever exists possibly is either through itself or through some given cause. If it is through itself, then it itself exists necessarily not possibly. If it is through a cause, then either its exis­ tence is necessary together with the existence of the cause, or it would stay the way it was before the exis­ tence of the cause, which is absurd. It must be the case, then, that its existence is together with the exis­ tence of the cause. So, whatever exists possibly through itself exists necessarily through another. 4. The �ecessary Existent's Perfection and Unity and That Two Things Inseparable with Respect to Existence Are Equivalent with Respect to It and So Both Have an External Cause [ l ] A single necessary existent can neither come to be from two, nor is there multiplicity in the necessary ex­ istent in any way. There cannot be two things, where this one is not that one, and that one is not this one, and each one is necessary through itself and through the other. [lbis is so since] ( l ) it has already been made clear that the necessary existent through itself is not through another. [This also follows since J (2) nei­ ther one of them can exist necessarily through the other, such that x exists necessarily through y and not through itself, and y exists necessarily through x and not through itself, and yet their totality is a single nec­ essary existent. [That is so] because considering them

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as two entities is different from considering them as two relata. [ In the latter case] each one of them has a necessary existence that is not through itself, and so each one of them exists possibly in itself. Now every­ thing that exists possibly in itself has a cause for its ex­ istence that is prior to it, because every cause is prior to the effect with respect to its own existence, even i f i t i s not [prior] with respect to time. Thus, in itself, each one of [the relata J has another thing by means of which it subsists, which is prior to it itself; however, ac­ cording to what we described, neither of them itself is prior to the other. So, then, both have causes exter­ nal to them and prior to them. Therefore, each one's necessary existence is not derived from the other, but rather from the external cause that occasions the at­ tachment between them. [2] Again, in the case of anything that is necessary through another, its very existence is posterior to the existence of that other and is dependent upon it. It is, then, impossible for one entity x, to depend for its ex­ istence upon another entity y, where y exists through x. It would be as though it depends for its existence on its very own existence! In summary form, when y is necessary through x, x is prior to [y, which is] prior to [x] , and [x] dependent upon [y, which is] dependent upon [x] . So the existence of both is absurd. [ 3] <So, on the one hand, if x has its own existence through itself, then it has no need for the other, y. On the other hand, if x does not exist until y exists, and y exists only after x exists, then the existence of x is de­ pendent upon something that exists after its very own existence, and so its existence is absurd.> 5 . On the S implicity of the �ecessary r I ] We also say it cannot be the case that the necessary existent has principles that are gathered together and the necessary existent is constituted of them. [ I n other wordsJ , it has neither quantitative parts nor the parts of a definition and account, whether they are l ike the matter and form, or in any other way as the parts of the account explaining the sense of its name, where each one of them would indicate something that is different essentially from the other with respect to the exis­ tence. That is because with anything described thus, each of its parts is neither the same as any other part

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nor the same as the composite. So either each of its two parts, for instance, can exist independently, but the composite cannot exist apart from them, and so the composite would not exist necessarily. Or one of them can [exist necessarily], but the composite cannot exist apart from it, and then neither the composite nor the other parts can exist independently, and so again [the necessary existent] would not exist necessarily. But it is precisely the necessary existent that can exist necessarily! If those parts cannot exist separately from the whole, and the whole cannot exist separately from the parts, but the existence of each one is attached to another and neither is essentially prior, then none of it exists necessarily. I have already explained this, that is, the parts are essentially prior to the whole, and so the cause necessitating existence would first necessi­ tate the parts and then the whole, and none of them would exist necessarily. We cannot say that the whole is essentially prior to the parts, and so it is either later or simultaneous - how could it be? ! - since then it would not exist necessarily. [ 2] From this it has become clear that what exists necessarily is not a body, nor any matter of a body, nor a form of a body, nor an intelligible matter of an intelligible form, nor an intelligible form in an in­ tell igible matter, nor divisible - whether in quantity, principles, or account- and so it is one from these three perspectives. 1 2. The Proof of the :\ ecessarily Existent [ 1 ] Undoubtedly there is existence, and all existence is either necessary or possible. If it is necessary, then in fact there is a necessarily existent being, which is what is sought. If it is possible, then we will show that the existence of the possible terminates in a necessarily ex­ istent being. Before that, however, we will advance some premises. 1 [2] These include that at any one and the same time there cannot be for anything that is possible [in] itself a cause that is itself possible ad infinitum. This is be­ cause all of them exist either all together or they do not.

1 . Only one is advanced here, but additional ones are ad­ vanced in the next chapter.

If they do not exist all together but rather one after an­ other, there is no infinite at one and the same time­ but let us defer discussion of this for now. As for their existing all together, and none is a necessarily existing being, then either the totality, insofar as it is that total­ ity, whether finite or infinite, exists necessarily through itself or possibly in itself. If, on the one hand, the to­ tality exists necessarily through itself, but each one of its members is something possible, then what exists necessarily subsists by means of things that exist possi­ bly, which is absurd. On the other hand, if the totality is something existing possibly in itself, then the totality needs for existence something that provides existence, which will be either external or internal to the totality. [ 3 ] If it is something internal to it, then one of its members is something existing necessarily, but each one of them exists possibly -so this is a contradiction. Or it is something existing possibly and so is a cause of the totality's existence, but a cause of the totality is pri­ marily a cause of the existence of its members, of which it is one. Thus, it would be a cause of its own existence, which is impossible. Despite this impossibility, if it is correct, it is in a certain way the very thing that is sought; for anything that is sufficient to necessitate itself is something existing necessarily, but it was [assumed] not to exist necessarily, so this is a contradiction. [4] The remaining option is that [what gives exis­ tence to the totality] is external to it, but it cannot be a possible cause, since we included every cause ex­ isting possibly in this totality. So since [the cause] is external to it, it also is something existing necessarily in itself. Thus, th ings existing possibly terminate in a cause existing necessarily, in which case not every [effect I that exists as something possible will have si­ multaneously with it a cause that exists as something possible, and so an infinite number of causes existing at a single time is impossible. 1 3 . That Possiblv Existents Cannot Be Causes of One Another in a Circular Fash ion at One and the Same Time l f Thev Are Finite

[ I ] Furthermore, the causes cannot be finite in num­ ber when each of them exists possibly in itself but is necessary through another to the point that one reaches the other circularly.

The Salvation, "Metaphysics" [2) So let us advance another premise. To set down a finite number of possible existents, each one of which is a cause of the others in a circle, is as absurd and obvious as the first problem. Particular to it, how­ ever, is that each one of them would be a cause and an effect of its own existence, where x comes into ex­ istence from y only after y itself comes into existence, but anything whose existence depends on the exis­ tence of what exists only after its own later existence cannot exist. (3) Any case of two relata, however, is not like this. For the two exist simultaneously, and the existence of one of them is not dependent such that it must be af­ ter the existence of the other. Rather, the cause pro­ ductive of them and necessitating them produces them both simultaneously. If one of them has a prior­ ity and the other a posteriority, like father and son, and if its priority is not with respect to the relation, then its priority is with respect to existence itself. However, the two are simultaneous with respect to the relation that is present after the occurrence of the thing. If the fa­ ther's existence were to depend on the son's existence and the son's existence were to depend on the father's existence, and moreover the two were not simultane­ ous but one of them is essentially after, then neither one of them would exist. The absurdity is not that the existence of what is simultaneous with a thing is a con­ dition for the thing's existence; rather, the absurdity is that it is an existence from and after that thing. 18. H ow the :\ecessary Existent through Itself Intellects Itself and Things [ ! ] It is absolutely inconceivable that the :\ecessary Ex­ istent would intellect things by way of things. Other­ wise, ( I ) It would subsist inasmuch as it intellects-and so It would subsist by means of the things; or (2) Its in­ tellecting would be accidental to It-and so It would not exist necessarily in every way. This is absurd, since if there were no external things, [ the Necessary Exis­ tent] would not exist unless It had a state resulting not from Itself but from another, in which case the other would have an effect on It. The axioms set down ear­ lier invalidate this and anything like it. [2] .!\"ow, because [the :\ecessary Existent] is a prin­ ciple of all existence (as we will explain), It intellects

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by way of Itself anything of which it is a principle, and It is a principle of both existents that are complete in themselves, as well as those things that are subject to generation and corruption, as species first, and, by way of that, as individuals. [ 3 ] In another way, however, It cannot be some­ thing intellecting, at a given time and at the level of the individual, these things that change, as they are changing, inasmuch as they are things changing; in­ stead, It intellects them in another manner that we will explain. For It could not be the case that at one time It intellects one of them as an existing, not a non­ existent thing, and at another time intellects it as a nonexistent thing, where each of these is a unique form for the intellect and neither form remains with the other, (since] then the Necessary Existent would Itself be subject to change. [ 4] :\1oreover, if the things subject to corruption can be intellected as abstracted essence and as an unindividuated thing following from that, then they cannot be intellected as corruptible. If they can be per­ ceived as something joined to matter and material ac­ cidents, and a given moment, and individuated, then they are not objects of the intellect but rather of the senses and the imaginative faculty. We have already explained in other books that we perceive any form derived from the senses as an object of the senses, and we imagine any form derived from the imagery only through a particular organ. [ 5] The assertion that the :\ecessary Existent has multiple acts of intellecting is just as faulty as the as­ sertion that It has multiple acts. In point of fact, the .\" ecessary Existent intellects everything only univer­ sally, but nevertheless no individual thing escapes Its notice: "not even the weight of a dust speck, whether in the heavens or on Earth, escapes His notice."2 This is one of those wonders that require a subtle genius to understand.

1 9. H ow the Necessary Existent Intellects Things [ l ] In answer to how this is possible, it is because when [the ::-.:ecessary Existent] intellects Itself, and It

2. A quotation from the Qur'an, 1 0:61 and 37: I I .

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intellects that It is the principle of everything that ex­ ists, It intellects the first principles of existent things as well as whatever is engendered out of them. Now noth ing comes to exist unless it has already become in one respect necessary by reason of some cause-we have already explained this3 - and then these causes interact with one another until particular things come to exist as a result. [2) The First [i.e., the Necessary Existent) knows the causes and the things coinciding with them and so necessarily knows what they result in, the times be­ tween them, and their recurrences. Since It cannot know this or that, 4 It is aware of particular things in­ sofar as they are universal - I mean inasmuch as they have attributes. If [those attributes) are unique to [one particular thing) as an individual, and so bear relation to an individual time or an individual state, then, if that state were to be understood as those attributes, it would be on par with [those attributes) ;' however, since [the state) is attributable to principles, the species of each one of which is confined to its one individual, the [species) would be attributable to an individual thing. [ 3 ) Now we have already said that as a result of such attribution, we can provide the individuals with a de­ scription and a characterization l imited to them. So if that individual is one of those things that, in the intel­ lect, is also individual, then the intellect has a way of arriving at that described thing, that is, the individual alone in its species, unique of its kind, like the sphere of the Sun, for example, or Jupiter. When its [species] is distributed among individuals, however, the intel­ lect has no way to describe that thing until it has been pointed out. [4] To begin with what you have learned, which we will reiterate, we say this is similar to the fact that, since you know all the heavenly motions, you know each eclipse and each particular conjunction and op­ position, but in a universal way. [That follows) be­ cause you say about a given eclipse that there will be 3. The Salvation, "Metaphysics," 2.3. 4. That is, the things to which one can physically point. 5 . That is, it would be an individual state, or a state be­ longing to an individual.

an eclipse after the time of such and such a planet's northerly motion from such and such a place by such and such a degree, when part of the Moon comes to be in opposition to such and such a planet, when such and such a period of time elapses between [this eclipse] and a similar eclipse previous or later to it, and that account is so similar for those two other eclipses6 that not a single accidental aspect of those eclipses re­ mains unknown to you. However, you know it as a uni­ versal due to the fact that this account can apply to many eclipses, each one of which is the same as that one, but arguably it is only that single eclipse itself that you know. This does not dispel the universality, how­ ever, if you recall what we said before. [ 5] Despite all of this, however, you may not be able to judge that this eclipse exists or does not exist at this instant, unless you recognize the particulars of the motions by sensory observation and you know the period of time between this observed eclipse and that eclipse. This is not the same as your recognizing that among motions there is one particular motion match­ ing the description of what you observed, and that there is such and such a difference between it and the other eclipse. You may be able to know that according to this kind of knowledge ( i .e., universally], but not know it in relation to a given moment, and so you ask whether it exists [at that given moment]. Instead, you have to have obtained by sensory observation some­ thing physically identifiable [in space and time) in or­ der for you to know the present occurrence of that eclipse. [6) If there is something that prevents calling this a recognition of the particular from its universal, [we) will not fight it, since our present aim concerns some­ thing else, namely, indicating how you know and per­ ceive particular things in a way that changes the knower, and how you know and perceive in a way that does not change the knower. For when ( I ) you know eclipses as something understood as a universal, or as existing always, or (2) your knowledge is not of eclipses taken absolutely but of every eclipse that comes to be and then whether that eclipse exists or not, neither in-

6. That is, the one before and the one after it.

The Cure, "Metaphysics" troduces any change in you. For in the two states7 your knowledge is the same, namely, that there is an eclipse with certain characteristics after such and such an eclipse or after the Sun is in such and such a house of the zodiac and at such and such an alignment, where such and such is after it, and after it is such and such. This act of intellecting on your part is consistent, be­ fore that eclipse, while it is occurring, and afterwards. If you introduce time into that, however, then at one given moment you know that this eclipse does not ex­ ist, and then at another given moment you know that it does exist, in which case your knowledge of the for­ mer (state, i.e., the eclipse's nonexistence] does not remain when the eclipse exists; rather, a different knowledge comes about after the change we just indi­ cated. At the moment the [eclipse] passes, you cannot be what you were before the passing. This is because yon are temporal and exist at a present moment.

7. Not the two states of existing or not existing, but of knowing eclipses absolutely or in terms of every eclipse (with the additional conditions listed) .

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(7] As for the First [i.e., the :'\lecessary Existent] , \Vho does not enter into any time and its status, it is completely inconceivable to apply to H im any status concerning this time or that time, as being in it or as a new temporal status or temporal knowledge being ap­ plied to it. Know that yon came to perceive particular eclipses only because you fully comprehended its causes and everything concerning the heavens. \Vhen full comprehension takes place about all of the causes in things and their existence, there is a transference [of that full comprehension] from those to all ofthe effects. [ 8] We will explain this further through an investi­ gation added to our earlier explanation, so that you will know how we know what is unseen. From these two explanations, yon will know how the First knows everything from Itself on account of the fact that It is a principle of a thing that in turn is a principle of one or more things that have a state and motion that are such and such, and that what results from them is such, down to the very last difference after which one cannot differentiate further, and then according to the combination that follows that differentiation with the inevitability of corruption following generation. These things are the keys to what is unseen.

20. The Cure, "Metaphysics" Sixth Treatise Chapter I . The Division of Causes and Their Dispositions We have spoken about the nature of substances and accidents, and about the relation of priority and posTranslated for this volume by Arthur Hyman from Ibn Sinii, Al-Shi{a, al-Ilahiyyat, ed. G. C. Anawati and Sa'id Zayed (Cairo: Organisation Generale des lmprimeries Gouvemementales, 1 960).

teriority in them, and about the knowledge of the agreement between definitions and the things de­ fined, universal as well as particular. It is fitting that we speak now about cause and that which is caused, since they are also among the consequences which belong to that which exists insofar as it exists. The causes, as you have heard, are: form, element [matter], agent, and purpose. We say: By the formal cause we have in mind the cause which is part of the subsistence of something, through which the thing is what it is in actuality. By the elemental [cause we have in mind] the cause which is part of the subsistence of

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something, through which the thing is what it is in po­ tentiality and in which there rests the potentiality of its existence. By the agent [we have in mind] the cause which bestows existence separate from itself, that is, its essence is not, according to the first intention, an un­ derlying subject for that which receives from it the ex­ istence of something which is formed by it, so that it is in itself the potentiality of its existence [that is, the existence which it bestows] only accidentally. And with that it is necessary that that existence is not from its [that is, the cause's] disposition insofar as it is an agent [in the sense of a principle of motion], but if [ex­ istence] is [from it], it must be according to some other relation. The reason is that the metaphysicians do not intend by the agent the principle of movement only, as do the natural philosophers, but also the principle of existence and that which bestows [existence], such as the creator of the world. But the natural acting cause does not bestow existence as distinguished from movement according to one of the kinds of motion, but that which bestows existence in the case of natu­ ral things is the principle of motion. By the final [cause] we intend the cause because of which the existence of something separate from it comes to be. It is clear that there is no cause besides these. We say: 'The cause of something must either enter its sub­ sistence and be part of its existence, or it must not. :\ow if it enters its subsistence and is part of its exis­ tence, then it is either that part from whose existence alone it would not follow for this thing that it exists in actuality, but only that it exists in potentiality, and this is called hyle [that is, matter] . Or it is the part whose existence makes it exist in actuality, and this is the form. However, if [ the cause] is not part of its exis­ tence, then it is either that for the sake of which [it ex­ ists ] , or it is not. :\ow if it is that for the sake of which [ the thing exists] , then it is the purpose; and if it is not that for the sake of which [the thing exists] , then the existence [of the thing] must proceed from it in such a way that it [the cause] exists in it only accidentally, and this is the agent; or its existence must come from it in such a way that it exists in it, and this is also its el­ ement or its substratum. Hence the principles in their totality are in one re­ spect five, and in another respect four. For if you con-

sider the element which is a recipient and which is not part of the thing as different from the element whi ch is a part, then there are five. But if you consider both of them [the substratum and matter] as one thing, inasmuch as they agree in the notion of potentiality and predisposition, then there are four. :\ow, you must not consider the element in the sense of the recipient which is a part [that is, matter] as a principle for the form, but [as a principle] for the composite. The recipient is a principle only accidentally, since it is first constituted in actuality by the form; however, its essence considered in respect to itself alone, exists in potentiality. And something which exists in potential­ ity, insofar as it exists in potentiality, can by no means be a principle. But it is only a principle by accident. :\ow an accident requires that there exists something in actuality which is a subject for it [and] then it be­ comes the cause for its subsistence, whether the acci­ dent is inseparable (and in that case [the subject] is prior according to essence), or whether it is separable (and in that case it is prior according to essence and according to time). These are the kinds of causes. If the substratum is the cause for an accident which it es­ tablishes, then it is not a cause in the same manner in which the substratum is a cause for the composite, but in some other manner. :\ow if the form is the cause for the matter which it establishes, then it is not [a cause] in the same man­ ner in which the form is a cause for the composite, even though both agree in that each one of them is the cause for something whose essence is not separate from it. For even if they agree in that, still in one of the two cases the cause [the form] does not bestow upon the other its existence, but something else bestows ex­ istence, but it exists in it. However, in the second case, the cause existing in it is the proximate principle for bestowing upon that which is caused its existence in actuality, yet not by itself alone, but only with a part­ ner and a cause which makes this cause, I have in mind, the form, to exist and it causes the other to ex­ ist through it. And [the form] together with its partner is an intermediate [cause J for bestowing upon that its existence in actuality. Thus the form is for matter as an acting principle [such that] if it exists in actuality, it would come from it alone. And it appears that the

The Cure, "\1etaphysics" Conn is part of the acting cause, such as one of the two movers of a ship, as will be explained later. As for the fonn, it is a formal cause for that which is composed of it and of matter, and the form is the form of matter, but it is not the formal cause of matter. The agent bestows upon some other thing an exis­ tence which does not belong to the other through it­ self. And that existence proceeds from that which is the agent insofar as the essence of this agent is not the re­ cipient for the form of that existence and [insofarJ as it is not united with it as something united which enters into it. But each one of these two essences [the cause and that which is caused) exists apart from the other and there does not exist in one of them a potentiality for receiving the other. Yet it is not farfetched that the agent brings into existence that which is caused [in the place) where it [the agent] is and insofar as it is joined to its essence. Thus the nature which is in the wood is a principle which is an agent for motion, for the mo­ tion comes to be in the matter in which the nahue ex­ ists and where its essence is. However, the two are not combined in such a way that one of them is part of the existence of the other or that it is matter for it, but the two essences are distinguished according to their true natures, even though they have a common subject. And it happens to an agent that it is not an agent at some time and that that which it causes is not caused, but that that which is caused by it does not exist. Hence there occur to the agent causes through which it be­ comes an agent in actuality. (We have spoken of this in what preceded.) Thus it becomes an agent and there comes to be from it the existence of the thing after it did not exist. '.;ow "existence" belongs to that thing and "that it did not exist" belongs to that thing. However, "that it did not exist" does not belong to it from an agent, nor "that it exists after it did not exist"; only its existence belongs to it from an agent. Hence if non-ex­ istence would belong to the thing through its essence, it would follow that its existence would come to be "af­ ter it did not exist" and it would become "existing after it did not exist." �ow existence is that which comes to the thing it­ self through the agent. But the existence which be­ longs to the thing belongs to it only because some other thing exists in its plenitude, from which [plenitude) it

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follows necessarily that the other has existence from the existence which it [the cause J has essentially. However, "that it did not exist" does not come from a cause which produces it. For its being non-existent goes back to some cause which is the non-existence of its cause. Further, its "coming into existence after non­ existence" is something which does not come from a cause, since it is absolutely impossible that its exis­ tence comes to be except after non-existence. But that which is impossible does not have a cause. 'lbus it is possible that its existence occurs or that it does not oc­ cur, and hence its existence has a cause. And it is pos­ sible that its non-existence occurs or does not occur, and hence its non-existence can have a cause. How­ ever, its "coming into existence after it did not exist" does not have a cause. Someone may object: It is likewise possible that its "existence after its non-existence" can occur or can not occur [and hence this can also have a cause) . We answer: If you have in mind its existence insofar as it is its existence, then non-existence does not enter it, for its very existence is not necessary, that is, it is pos­ sible, and hence it is not not-necessary insofar as "it is after non-existence." But as for the not-necessary, its existence is that which happens now and which [pre­ viously) did not exist. However, if you have in mind its existence insofar as it is considered as "existing after it did not exist," then its existence is considered "after it did not exist." In that case its existence is considered "after non-existence" and its existence is considered not as existing simply, even though it exists after it did not exist and came to be after it did not exist. Existence in this sense does not have a cause, nor is there a cause for its "coming into existence after it did not exist," e\·en if there exists a cause for the existence which it has after non-existence, insofar as it is its existence. And it is true that its existence can occur or not occur after actual non-existence. But it is not true that its "existence after non-existence" insofar as it is "exis­ tence after non-existence" can be "existence after non­ existence" or can not be "existence after non-existence." Indeed, unless it does not exist at all, it exists in rela­ tion to existence. Perhaps someone is of the opinion that the agent and the cause are only required in order that some-

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thing has existence after it did not exist and that, once the thing exis� and the cause is missing, the thing exis� as self-sufficient. And he who is of this opinion thinks that something only needs a cause for i� com­ ing into being and that, once it has come into being and exis�, it can do without the cause. According to this opinion, causes are causes for coming into being only, and they exist prior to the thing, not simultane­ ously with it. But he who holds this opinion thinks something absurd. For the existence after coming into being must be either [I] necessary existence or [II] not necessary existence. :'\ow if it is [ I ] necessary exis­ tence, then [Ia] i� necessity belongs to that quiddity (to the essence of that quiddity) in such a way that that quiddity requires necessary existence and in that case it is impossible that it comes to be. Or [Ib] necessity belongs to it through a condition and that condition is either [Ib l ] coming into being, or [ lb2] one of the attributes of that quiddity, or [Ib 3] something separate. :-.iow [ lb l ] the necessity of i� existence cannot come from i� coming into being, since the existence of com­ ing into being i�elf is not necessary through i�elf. How then can the existence of something else be nec­ essary through it? Further, coming into being ceases and how can there be with i� non-existence a cause for the necessary existence of something else? Unless one were to say that coming into being is not the cause, but the cause is the existence of something to which coming into being has occurred. But this would be one of the attributes which belong to the thing which has come into being. Thus necessity falls under the second group of the divisions [namely, that it oc­ curs through an attribute] . We say: [ Ib2a] These attributes must belong to the quiddity insofar as it is a quiddity, not insofar as it came into being. It follows then that that which necessarily belongs to it, necessarily belongs to the quiddity. And necessary existence belongs necessarily to the quid­ dity. Or [Ib2b] these attributes come into being to­ gether with the existence [of the quiddity ] . In this case the statement concerning the necessity of i� existence is like the statement concerning the first case [that is, something necessary cannot come into being] . �ow if there exis� an unlimited number of attributes, all of them possessing this attribute, then all of them would

be things whose existence is possible, not necessary through themselves. Or they lead to an attribute which is necessary through some separate thing. The first division establishes that all the attributes are things whose existence is possible through themselves. :\ow it is clear that that whose existence is possible through i�elf, exis� through another, and hence the totality of the attributes is necessary through something else ex­ isting apart. The second division requires that the ex­ istence of that which comes into being only remains as existence through a cause from the ou�ide and this is the cause. You already know that "coming into being" has no meaning except " existence after it did not exist." Thus there is here "existence" and "existence after it did not exist." :'\ow the cause which brings something into being has no influence and effect insofar as the thing does not exist, but i� influence and effect ex­ tends only insofar as existence proceeds from it. Then it is accidental that it is that thing at that time, "after it did not exist." And the accident which occurs in the production of something has no entrance into the subsistence of the thing and, hence, the preced­ ing non-existence has no entrance insofar as the ex­ istence which comes into being has a cause, but that kind of existence, insofar as it belongs to that kind of quiddities, requires that it has a cause, even if it con­ tinues and remains. Because of this you cannot say: Someth ing produces the existence of the thing inso­ far as it "exists after it did not exist," for this is not within i� province; but in the case of some of the things which exist it is absolutely necessary that they do not exist after non-existence, while in the case of others it is absolutely necessary that they exist after non-existence. :'\ow existence insofar as it is the existence of this quiddity can be from a cause, while the attribute of this existence, namely that it "exis� after it did not exist," cannot be from a cause. And insofar as i� exis­ tence comes into being, that is, insofar as the exis­ tence which belongs to it is described as one which "exis� after non-existence," the thing does not, in truth, have a cause. But it has a cause insofar as exis­ tence belongs to the quiddity. And the case is the re­ verse of what they [the Ylutakallimiin] think, but the

The Cure, "\1etaphysics" cause belongs to the existence alone. If it happens that non-existence precedes it, then the thing comes into being, but if it does not happen that [non-exis­ tence precedes it], then it does not come into being, [even though it is caused] . The agent which [ordinary] people call a n agent is not truly a cause insofar as they posit it as an agent. For they posit it as an agent insofar as it must be affirmed concerning it that it was not [previously] an agent. However, it is not an agent insofar as it is a cause; but insofar as it is a cause something is necessary with it. It is an agent insofar as it is considered in respect to that which it produces and concurrently in respect to that which it does not produce. Thus if the cause is considered in respect to that which is bestowed by it concurrently with that which is not bestowed by it, then it is called an agent. Therefore everything which lordinary people] call an agent has as its condition that it is necessarily at some time not an agent. In that case there is an act of will or a compulsion or there occurs to it some state which did not exist [previouslyj. When this additional thing is joined to it, then its essence to­ gether with that which is adjoined becomes a cause in actuality, after it had been devoid of that. Hence, ac­ cording to their opinion, it is an agent insofar as it is a cause in actuality after it had been a cause in poten­ tiality, not insofar as it is a cause in actuality in an ab­ solute manner. Everything which they call an agent must also be something which they call passive. They do not free the agent from there being attached to it something of the state of coming into being, because of which there proceeds from it its existence after it did not exist. It is clear then that the existence of the quiddity depends on something else insofar as it is the existence of that quiddity, not insofar as it exists after it did not exist. And that existence is caused in this manner as long as it exists. Likewise it is caused as dependent on some­ thing else. Thus it is clear that that which is caused re­ quires something which bestows existence to it because of existence itself essentially. But that it comes into be­ ing and that which is like it are things which happen to it accidentally. 'That which is caused requires some­ thing which bestows existence upon it continuously, as long as it continues as existing.

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Chapter 2 . The Solution of the Question Which Arises Concerning the Opinion of the True Philosophers [Who :'vtaintain] That Every Cause Exists Simultaneously with That Which Is Caused by It, and the Verification of the Discourse Concerning the Acting Cause. The question of the opponents arises from the fact that the son remains after the father, and the building re­ mains after the builder, and the heat remains after the fire. The reason for this question is the confusion which results from the ignorance of what a cause re­ ally is. For the builder, and the father, and the fire are not really causes for the subsistence of the things which they cause. The builder who produces that [building] is not the cause of the subsistence of that building; [he is] not even [the cause] for its existence. :\ow the motion of the builder is the cause of some other motion. Thereafter his rest, and his ceasing from motion or the non-existence of his motion, and his moving away after that motion are the cause for the end of that motion. And that very moving away and the end of that motion are the cause of some coming to­ gether [namely the coming together of the materials], and that coming together is the cause of a certain shape [namely, the shape of the building] . Each one of these is a cause, and it and that which is caused by it exist simultaneously. [Likewise] the father is the cause of the movement of the semen. And when the motion of the semen comes to an end in the manner mentioned, it [the ces­ sation of motion] is the cause of [the semen's] arrival in its proper place. Then its arrival in its proper place is the cause of the thing. However, that the semen re­ ceives the form "animal" and that it remains an ani­ mal has some other cause. Since this is so, every cause exists simultaneously with that which is caused by it. Similarly, fire is a cause for the heating of the ele­ ment water. And heating is the cause of the destruc­ tion of the predisposition which water possesses in actuality for the reception or preservation of the form "water." This or some other thing is the cause of the coming to be of the perfect predisposition (according to a similar state) for the reception of its contrary, namely the form "fire." But the causes which provide

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for the elements their form are the cause of the form "fire." These are the incorporeal [substances]. Hence causes which are truly causes exist simulta­ neously with the things caused. But causes which pre­ cede the things caused are causes either accidentally or as supporting. Because of this it must be believed that the cause of the shape of the building is the com­ ing together [of its materials] and [that] the cause of that is the natures of the things which come together and their remaining together as they were put together. The cause of that [in turn] is the incorporeal cause which produces the natures. [Similarly,] the cause of the child is the coming together of its form with its matter through the cause which bestows the forms. [Likewise] the cause of fire is the cause which bestows the forms and simultaneously the cessation of the per­ fect predisposition for that which is contrary to those forms. Thus we find that causes are simultaneous with the things caused. If we shall show in our discussion which follows that the causes are finite, we ascribe this only to these causes [that is those which are truly causes, namely es­ sential causes] and we do not deny that there can be an infinite number of supporting and preparatory causes, one prior to the other. On the contrary, that is absolutely necessary. For everything which comes into being becomes necessary after it was not neces­ sary through the necessity of its cause, as we have ex­ plained. Its cause, in turn, is also something which is necessary. And it follows in the case of particular things, that the preceding things [causes] through which it is necessary that the causes which exist in actuality are causes in ach1ality, are infinite. Therefore the question "from what?" concerning it does not come to an end at all. However, the question here is about the following [difficulty] : If [the series of causes] is infinite, then [I] each of these causes must exist for an instant and there follow successive instants between which there is no time. This is impossible. Or [II] [each cause] must re­ main for some time. In this case, the necessary action of that cause must exist throughout all of that time, not throughout a part [an instant] of it. In turn, the notion which bestows necessity upon the necessity of that cause must also exist during that time. Then our dis­ cussion concerning that which bestows necessity upon

its necessity is like our discussion concerning it. Hence an infinity of causes would exist simultaneously. But this is what we deny. We say [as answer to this objection] : If motion did not exist, this question would necessarily arise. But it is motion that [keeps] some­ thing from remaining in the same state. And it is not something which moves from one state to the next in one instant after another which is joined to it and touches it, but [it moves] according to continuity. And the essence of the cause does not necessitate the exis­ tence of that which is caused, but its generation ac­ cording to some relation. The cause of that relation is either the motion, or motion is the partner of its cause or that through which the cause is a cause in actual­ ity. Hence the cause does not continue in existence ac­ cording to one state, nor does its existence cease or come into being in one instant. Thus it follows that motion is the cause which preserves or is common to the order of causes, and through it the difficulties are resolved. And we shall explain this in its proper place further on. 'Ibus it is clear and certain that the essen­ tial causes of something, through which the essence of the thing exists in actuality, must exist simultane­ ously with that which they cause and they do not pre­ cede it in existence in such a way that they cease to exist when that which is caused comes into being, for the latter is only possible for causes that are not essen­ tial or not proximate. But that the causes which are not essential and not proximate go to infinity is not im­ possible; on the contrary it is necessary. Since this has been established, then, when some­ thing through its essence is continuously the cause for the existence of some other thing, the cause belongs to it continuously as long as its essence continues to exist. If the cause exists continuously [eternally], then that which is caused exists continuouslv. A cause of this kind is [a cause] in the highest degree, for it pre­ vents absolutely the non-existence of something and it is that which provides the perfect existence for some­ thing. This is the meaning of that which is called "cre­ ation" by the philosophers, namely, the bringing into existence of something after absolute non-existence. And it belongs to that which is caused, through itself, that it is non-existing, while it belongs to it through a cause that it is existing. That which belongs to some­ thing through itself is, in thought, prior according to

The Cure, ".\1etaphysics" essence not according to time to that which comes from another. Thus everything which is caused is ex­ isting after non-existing according to a priority which is according to essence. If one applies the term "that which comes into be­ ing" to everything which possesses existence after non­ existence, even if posteriority does not exist according to time, then everything caused comes into being. I f, however, one does not apply [the term in this sense] , but holds that i t i s a condition for that which comes into being that there exists a time and a moment which is prior to it and which ceases with its coming after it, then its posteriority is the kind of posteriority which does not exist simultaneously with priority, but it is separate from it in respect to existence, inasmuch as it is temporal. In this case, not everything which is caused comes into being, but only that caused whose existence is preceded by time, and its existence is undoubtedly preceded by motion and alteration, as you know. But we do not quarrel about names. Now, that which comes into being in the sense which does not require time, must have its existence after absolute non-existence, or it must have its exis­ tence after non-existence which is not absolute, but after non-existence of a particular contrary in an exist­ ing matter, as you know. If its existence takes place af­ ter absolute non-existence, then its procession is from a cause [and] that procession is creation. This is the most excellent kind of giving existence, since non­ being is absolutely impossible, and existence has power over it. I f, however, non-being occurs in such a way that it precedes existence, then the coming into being of the thing is impossible unless it comes from matter and in that case matter has power over its coming into being; I have in mind, that the existence of something which is from something else is weaker, fulls short, and is secondary. There are people who do not posit everything hav­ ing this attribute as created. But they say: Let us imag­ ine that something has existence from a first cause through the intermediacy of an intermediate acting

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cause and that it does not come from matter and that non-existence has no power over it. But its existence comes from a cause that is truly first after some other existence which is adjoined to it. In this case its com­ ing into being is not from absolute non-being, but from some being which is not material. Then again there are people who posit creation for every formal existence, however it may be. And the material exis­ tence is described [by them] in its relation to the cause by the term "generation," even if matter does not pre­ cede it. We do not at all quarrel about these names, inas­ much as these notions are distinct. We find that some of the things which have existence from a cause exist continuously without matter, and others with matter; some exist through an intermediate cause, others with­ out an intermediate cause. It is proper that everything which does not exist through a preceding matter should not be called generated, but created, and that we posit as the most excellent of that which is called created that which does not come to be from the first cause through an intermediate cause, be it material, or acting, or some other. We return to our discussion and say: The agent which is an agent accidentally must have matter in which it acts, since everything which comes into be­ ing requires, as you know, matter. Sometimes the agent acts suddenly, and sometimes it acts through move­ ment, as a result of which it is a principle of motion. When the natural philosophers call the agent the prin­ ciple of motion, they have in mind by this the four [kinds ofj motion. They are complaisant in this place and they posit generation and corruption as a motion. :\ow at times the agent acts through itself, at times through a power. That which acts through itself is like heat which would act if it would exist as separated. In that case there would proceed from it what proceeds because it is heat alone. But that which acts through a power is l ike fire which acts through its heat. We have enumerated the kinds of potentialities in another place.

2 1 . The Salvation, "Psycholo gy" Sixth Treatise C hapter 9. The Substratum of Rational Concepts Is Immaterial We further maintain that the substance which is the substratum of the intelligibles is neither itself a body nor does it subsist in a body in such a way as to be in any sense a faculty residing in, or a form of, that body. If the substratum of the intelligibles were a body or a magnitude of some kind, then that body which is the substratum of the forms would be either indivisible or divisible. Let us first examine whether such a substra­ tum can have a part that is not further divisible. I think this is absurd, since a point is some sort of a limit and its position cannot be distinguished from the line or the magnitude of which it is the limit. Thus if anything were to be imprinted on it, it must be imprinted on a part of that line. If, however, the point does not exist separately but is an essential part of what is in itself a quantity, one can say that, in some sense, anything which inheres in that quantity (i.e. the line) of which the point is the l imit, must also inhere in that point and thus become accidentally quantified by it. When this happens it also remains accidentally limited by that point. If the point were separate and could receive something, it would be an independent self-subsisting entity and would have two sides: one side contiguous with the line from which it is distinguished and an­ other side opposite to it. It would then be separate from the line which would have a limit other than the point touching it. Then that point and not this one would be the limit of the line, and we should have the same problem repeated ad infinitum. It would follow from this that the finite or infinite repetition of points produces a line, a view which we have elsewhere shown to be absurd. It is clear, therefore, that the points are not synthesized into a line by being put toReprinted from F. Rahman, tr., Avicenna's Psychology (London: Oxford University Press, 1 9 52), by permission of the Clarendon Press, Oxford.

gether. It is also clear that the point has no particular and distinct position. We might, however, allude to a part of the arguments already given to show the ab­ surdity of this view, and say: either [ I ] A certain given point which is in the middle of two other points separates them, so that they do not meet. If so, then with primary rational intuition it fol­ lows that each of the two is particularized by a special part of the middle point which it touches, and thus the middle point would be divided. This is absurd. Or [2] The middle part does not prevent the two side­ points from touching. The rational form would then inhere in all the points at once, and all the points (in­ terpenetrating as they are, on this supposition) would be like one single point. But we have already supposed this point to be separate from the line, and therefore the line being separate from it has a limit other than the point by which limit it is separated from the point in question. Thus that point (which separates the line from the point in question) would have a different position from this point. But we have already supposed that all the points have one common position. This is a contradiction. The view that the substratum of the intelligibles is some indivisible part of the body is therefore false. The remaining solution is that the substratum ofthe intelligibles (if their substratum is a body) is something divisible. Let us suppose an intelligible form in some­ thing divisible. A form thus supposed to subsist in something somehow divisible would itself be acciden­ tallv divisible. 'Then the two parts of the form would be eith er similar or dissimilar. If they are similar, then why is their synthesis something different from them? For the whole, as such, is different from the part. For if the parts are exactly similar, the only difference their total­ itv would make is an increase in quantity or in number a �d not in form. But if so, then the intelligible form would be a certain shape or number. :\o intelligible form, however, has shape or number, otherwise the form would be representational and not intelligible. The following is a still clearer argument. It is not pos­ sible to say that the concept of each of the two parts is

The Salvation, "Psychology" exactly the same as that of the whole, for, if the second

part does not enter into the concept of the whole, it is

necessary that at the outset we should reserve the con­ cept of the whole for the first part only and not for both. But if it enters into the concept of the whole, it is ob­ vious that either of these two parts alone cannot indi­ cate exactly the concept of the complete whole. If, on the other hand, the two parts of the form are dissimilar, let us see in what sense an intelligible form can have such parts. These dissimilar parts can only be the parts of definition, viz. genera and differentiae. From this many absurdities would necessarily follow; for example, every part of the body is also potentially divisible ad infinitum, so that the genera and differ­ entiae must also be potentially infinite. But it has been established that the genera and essential differ­ entiae of a single thing are not potentially infinite. Furthermore, it is not the supposition of division which produces distinction between the genus and the differentiae; if there were a genus and a differentia necessitating a distinction in the substratum, the divi­ sion would certainly not depend on supposition. It would necessarily follow that the genera and differen­ tiae would be actually infinite, too. It has been estab­ lished that the genera and differentiae and parts of definition of a single thing are, in all respects, finite. I f they were actually infinite, they could not have come together in the body in this form, for it would neces­ sarily entail a single body being actually divisible ad infinitum. Again, let us suppose that the division takes place in a certain way and has placed genus on one side and differentia on the other. If this manner of division is changed it would place half-genus plus half-differentia on the one side and the other halves on the other. Or genus and differentia would exchange places, so that in our supposition or imagination the position of genus and differentia would revolve, and each of them would move in any direction according to the will of an exter­ nal person. But this is not the end, for we can go on in­ troducing a new division within a division ad infinitum. Again, not every intelligible is divisible into sim­ pler intelligibles, for certain intelligibles are the sim­ plest and serve as principles for other compound ones. They have no genera and differentiae, nor are they di­ visible in quantity or concept. It is not possible, then,

2 57

that the supposed parts of the form should be dissim­ ilar in such a way that each one of them is, in con­ cept, different from the whole and the whole is made up of their aggregate. If, then, the intelligible form is indivisible, and it does not inhere in an indivisible part of a magnitude, and, at the same time, there must be something in us which receives it, it is clear that the substratum of the intelligibles is a substance which is not a body, nor a bodily faculty such as might be subject to the acci­ dents of the body, e.g. division with all the absurdities it involves. Another Argument We can prove this in another way by saying that it is the rational faculty itself which abstracts the intelligibles from a definite quantity, place, position, and all the other categories. Let us examine this form itself which is abstracted from position and ask how this has been effected. Is this abstraction with reference to the know­ ing subject? I .e. is this intelligible abstracted from po­ sition in its external existence or in its conceptual existence in the intelligent? It is absurd that it should be so in its external existence, so that the only alterna­ tive is that it is abstracted from position and place in its existence in the intellect. Thus, when the intelligible form comes to exist in the intellect, it does not possess a position whereby it might be indicated and so divided or subjected to similar processes; therefore it cannot be in a body. Again, when the unitary, indivisible forms of things which are conceptually indivisible are im­ printed on a di\·isible matter having dimensions, then either none of the supposed parts has any relation to the unitary intelligible which is indivisible and abstract from matter, or each and every one of the supposed parts has relation to it, or some parts have such a rela­ tion while others do not. If none of the parts has rela­ tion to it, then the whole (composed as it is of the parts) cannot possibly have any relation to it either. If some parts have a relation to it, and the others do not, then the parts which have no relation to this intelligible do not enter into its concept at all. But if every supposed part has some relation to it, then either it is related to the intelligible as a whole or to a part of it. I f every supposed part of the matter in which the intelligible

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inheres has a relation t o the whole o f the intelligible, then the parts are not parts of the intelligible, but each is independently an intelligible itself; indeed, it would be the intelligible itself. In this case the intelligible would be actually intelligible an infinite number of times in a single moment. If every part has a different relation to this entity, then the entity as an intelligible must be conceptually divisible. This is a contradiction, for we have already supposed it to be indivisible. If the relation of each part is to a different part of the intelli­ gible entity, its divisibility is all the more obvious, ex­ cept that it is inconceivable. It is clear from this that the forms imprinted on matter are only the exterior forms of particular divisible entities and every part of the for­ mer is actually or potentially related to every part of the latter. Also, even a thing which is multiple as regards its parts of definition is a unity when regarded as a whole. This unity is indivisible. So how can this unity, as such, be imprinted on something divisible? Otherwise, the absurdity we have mentioned in the case of the indi­ visible intelligible would arise. Again, we have established that the supposed in­ telligibles which it is the function of the rational faculty actually to know one by one are potentially in­ finite. It is also certain that the substratum of some­ thing which can encompass infinite things cannot be a body nor a faculty in a body. This has been demon­ strated in Aristotle's Physics. It is quite impossible, then, that the entity which receives intelligibles should be inherent in a body, or that its action should be in a body or through a body. Chapter 1 2 . C oncerning the Temporal Origin of the Soul We say that human souls are of the same species and concept. Ifthey existed before the body, they would ei­ ther be multiple entities or one single entity. But it is impossible for them to be either the one or the other, as will be shown later; therefore it is impossible for them to exist before the body. We now begin with the explanation of the impossibility of its numerical mul­ tiplicity and say that the mutual difference of the souls before [their attachment to J bodies is either due to their quiddity and form; or to the element and matter which is multiple in space, a particular part of which

each matter occupies; or to the various times peculiar to every soul when it becomes existent in its matter; or to the causes which divide their matter. But their dif­ ference is not due to their quiddity or form, since their form is one; therefore their difference is due to the re­ cipient of the quiddity or to the body to which the quiddity is specifically related. Before its attachment to the body the soul is quiddity pure and simple; thus it is impossible for one soul to be numerically differ­ ent from another, or for the quiddity to admit of es­ sential differentiation. This holds absolutely true in all cases; for the multiplicity of the species of those things whose essences are pure concepts is only due to the substrata which receive them and to what is affected by them, or due only to their times. But when they are absolutely separate, i.e. when the categories we have enumerated are not applicable to them, they cannot be diverse. It is therefore impossible for them to have any kind of diversity or multiplicity among them. Thus it is untrue that before they enter bodies souls have nu­ merically different essences. I say that it is also impossible for souls to have nu­ merically one essence, for when two bodies come into existence two souls also come into existence in them. Then either-

( I ) these tv.·o souls are two parts of the same single soul, in which case one single thing which does not possess any magnitude and bulk would be potentially divisible. lbis is manifestly absurd according to the prin­ ciples established in physics. Or(2) a soul which is numerically one would be in two bodies. This also docs not require much effort to refute. It is thus proved that the soul comes into existence whenever a body does so fit to be used by it. The body which thus comes into being is the kingdom and in­ strument of the soul. In the very disposition of the sub­ stance of the soul which comes into existence together with a certain body- a body, that is to say, with the ap­ propriate qualities to make it suitable to receive the soul which takes its origin from the first principles ­ there is a natural yearning to occupy itself with that

The Salvation, "Psychology" body, to use it, control it, and be attracted by it. This yearning binds the soul specially to this body, and turns it away from other bodies different from it in na­ ture so that the soul does not contact them except through it. Thus when the principle of its individual­ ization, namely, its peculiar dispositions, occurs to it, it becomes an individual. These dispositions deter­ mine its attachment to that particular body and form the relationship of their mutual suitability, although this relationship and its condition may be obscure to us. The soul achieves its first entelechy through the body; its subsequent development, however, does not depend on the body but on its own nature. But after their separation from their bodies the souls remain individual owing to the different matters in which they had been, and owing to the times of their birth and their different dispositions due to their bodies which necessarily differ because of their pecu­ liar conditions. Chapter 1 3. The Soul Does �ot Die with the Death of the Body; It Is Incorruptible. We say that the soul does not die with the death of the body and is absolutely incorruptible. As for the former proposition, this is because everything which is cor­ rupted with the corruption of something else is in some way attached to it. And anything which in some way is attached to something else is either coexistent with it or posterior to it in existence or prior to it, this priority being essential and not temporal. If, then, the soul is so attached to the body that it is coexistent with it, and this is not accidental but pertains to its essence, then they are essentially interdependent. Then nei­ ther the soul nor the body would be a substance; but in fact they are substances. And if this is an accidental and not an essential attachment, then, with the cor­ ruption of the one term only the accidental relation­ ship of the other term will be annulled, but its being will not be corrupted with its corruption . If the soul is so attached to the body that it is posterior to it in exis­ tence, then, in that case, the body will be the cause of the soul's existence. :\ow the causes are four; so either the body is the efficient cause of the soul and gives it existence, or it is its receptive and material cause­ maybe by way of composition as the elements are for

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the body or by way of simplicity as bronze is for the statu e - or the body is the soul's formal or final cause. But the body cannot be the soul's efficient cause, for body, as such, does not act; it acts only through its fac­ ulties. If it were to act through its essence, not through its faculties, every body would act in the same way. Again, the bodily faculties are all of them either acci­ dents or material forms, and it is impossible that either accidents or forms subsisting in matter should pro­ duce the being of a self-subsisting entity independent of matter or that of an absolute substance. �or is it pos­ sible that the body should be the receptive and mate­ rial cause of the soul, for we have clearly shown and proved that the soul is in no way imprinted in the body. The body, then, is not 'informed' with the form of the soul, either by way of simplicity or composition so that certain parts of the body are composed and mixed together in a certain way and then the soul is imprinted in them. It is also impossible that the body should be the formal or the final cause of the soul, for the reverse is the more plausible case. Thus the attachment of the soul to the body is not the attachment of an effect to a necessary cause. The truth is that the body and the temperament are an ac­ cidental cause of the soul, for when the matter of a body suitable to become the instrument of the soul and its proper subject comes into existence, the sepa­ rate causes bring into being the individual soul, and that is how the soul originates from them. This is be­ cause it is impossible to bring arbitrarily into being dif­ ferent souls without any specific cause. Besides, the soul does not admit of numerical multiplicity, as we have shown. Again, whenever a new thing comes into being, it must be preceded by a matter which is pre­ pared to receive it or to have a relationship with it, as has been shown in the other sciences. Again, if an in­ dividual soul were to come into being without an in­ strument through which it acts and attains perfection, its being would be purposeless; but there is nothing purposeless in nature. In truth, when the suitability and preparation for such a relationship exist in the in­ strument, it becomes necessary that such a thing as a soul should originate from the separate causes. But if the existence of one thing necessitates the ex­ istence of another, the corruption of the former does not necessarily entail that of the latter. This happens

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only where its very being subsists through or in that thing. \1any things originating from other things sur­ vive the latter's corruption; when their being does not subsist in them, and especially when they owe their ex­ istence to something other than what was merely preparatory for the emanation of their being. And the being of the soul does in fact emanate from something different from the body and bodily functions, as we have shown; its source of emanation must be some­ thing different from the body. Thus when the soul owes its being to that other thing and only the time of its realization to the body, its being would be inde­ pendent of the body which is only its accidental cause; it cannot then be said that they have a mutual rela­ tionship which would necessitate the body preceding the soul as its necessary cause. Let us turn to the third division which we men­ tioned in the beginning, namely, that the attachment of the soul to the body might be in the sense that the soul is prior to the body in existence. Now in that case the priority will be either temporal as well as essential, and so the soul's being could not possibly be attached to the body since it precedes the body in time, or the priority will be only essential and not temporal, for in time the soul will not be separate from the body. This sort of priority means that when the prior entity comes into existence, the being of the posterior entity must follow from it. Then the prior entity cannot exist, if the posterior is supposed to be non-existent. I do not say that the supposition of the non-existence of the poste­ rior necessitates the non-existence of the prior, but that the posterior cannot be non-existent except when first something has naturally happened to the prior which has made it non-existent, too. Thus it is not the supposition of the non-existence of the posterior entity which necessitates the non-existence of the prior, but the supposition of the non-existence of the prior itself, for the posterior can be supposed to be non-existent only after the prior itself has ceased to exist. This be­ ing so, it follows that the cause of non-existence must occur in the substance of the soul necessitating the body's corruption along with it, and that the body cannot be corrupted through a cause special to itself. But in fact the corruption of the body does take place through a cause special to itself, namely, through changes in its composition and its temperament. Thus

it is false to hold that the soul is attached to the body as essentially prior to it, and that at the same time the body is indeed corrupted through a cause in itself; so no such relationship subsists between the two. This being so, all the forms of attachment between the body and the soul have proved to be false and it only remains that the soul, in its being, has no rela­ tionship with the body but is related with other prin­ ciples which are not subject to change or corruption. As for the proposition that the soul does not admit of corruption at all, I say that there is another conclu­ sive reason for the immortality of the soul. Everything which might be corrupted through some cause has in itself the potentiality of corruption and, before cor­ ruption, has the actuality of persistence. But it is ab­ surd that a single thing in the same sense should possess both, the potentiality of corruption and the ac­ tuality of persistence; its potentiality of corruption can­ not be due to its actual persistence, for the concept of potentiality is contrary to that of actuality. Also, the re­ lation of this potentiality is opposed to the relation of this actuality, for the one is related with corruption, the other with persistence. These two concepts, then, are attributable to two different factors in the concrete thing. Hence we say that the actuality of persistence and the potentiality of corruption may be combined in composite things and in such simple things as sub­ sist in composite ones. But these two concepts cannot come together in simple things whose essence is sep­ arate. I say in another absolute sense that these two concepts cannot exist together in a simple thing whose essence is unitary. This is because everything which persists and has the potentiality of corruption also has the potentiality of persistence, since its persistence is not necessary. \\ nen it is not necessary, it is possible; and possibility is of the nature of potentiality. 'In us the potentiality of persistence is in its very substance. But, of course, it is clear that the actuality of persistence of a thing is not the same as its potentiality of persistence. Thus its actuality of persistence is a fact which hap­ pens to the body which has the potentiality of persist­ ence. Therefore that potentiality docs not belong to something actual but to something of which actual ex­ istence is only an accident and does not constitute its real essence. From this it necessarily follows that its be­ ing is composed of a factor the possession of which

The Cure, "The S oul "

gives actual existence to it (this factor is the form in

every concrete existent), and another factor which at­ tains this actual existence but which in itself has only the potentiality of existence (and this factor is the mat­ ter in the concrete existent). So if the soul is absolutely simple and is not divisi­ ble into matter and form, it will not admit of corrup­ tion. But if it is composite, let us leave the composite and consider only the substance which is its matter. We say: either that matter will continue to be divisible and so the same analysis will go on being applied to it and we shall then have a regress ad infinitum, which is absurd; or this substance and base will never cease to exist. But if so, then our present discourse is devoted to this factor which is the base and origin (i.e. the sub­ stance) and not to the composite thing which is com­ posed of this factor and some other. So it is clear that everything which is simple and not composite, or which is the origin and base (i.e. the substance) of the composite thing, cannot in itself possess both the ac­ tuality of persistence and the potentiality of corrup­ tion. If it has the potentiality of corruption, it cannot possibly have the actuality of persistence, and if it has the actuality of persistence and existence, it cannot have the potentiality of corruption. Obviously, then, the substance of the soul does not have the potential-

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ity of corruption. Of those things which come to be and are corrupted, the corruptible is only the concrete composite. The potentiality of corruption and of per­ sistence at the same time does not belong to some­ thing which gives unity to the composite, but to the matter which potentially admits of both contraries. So the corruptible composite as such possesses neither the potentiality of persistence nor that of corruption, let alone both. As to the matter itself, it either has per­ sistence not due to any potentiality, which gives it the capacity for persistence -as some people think - or it has persistence through a potentiality which gives it persistence, but does not have the potentiality of cor­ ruption; this latter being something which it acquires. The potentiality of corruption of simple entities which subsist in matter is due to matter and is not in their own substance. The argument which proves that every­ thing which comes to exist passes away on account of the finitude ofthe potentialities of persistence and cor­ ruption is relevant only to those whose being is com­ posed of matter and form. :\fatter has the potentiality that this form may persist in it, and at the same time the potentiality that this form may cease to exist in it. It is then obvious that the soul is absolutely incorrupt­ ible. This is the point which we wanted to make, and this is what we wanted to prove.

2 2 . The Cure, "The Soul" Fifth Treatise A Verification of the True Account of the Soul

[ . . . ) [ l ) It has become clear from what we have stated 1 that the different actions of the soul are attributable to From Classical Arabic Philosophy, tr. Jon McGinnis and David C. Reisman (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Com­ pany, 2007). Reprinted by permission of the publisher. I. "The Soul," I . ; .

different faculties, and that each faculty, as such / is like that only inasmuch as the first action that belongs to it issues from it. So the irascible faculty is not af­ fected by pleasures nor is the appetitive faculty af­ fected by pains. The faculty of perception does not suffer the effects that these two suffer, and nothing about these two, as such,3 is receptive to the percepti-

Z. That is, different from another faculty.

3. That is, different from the perceptible faculty.

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ble form and i s informed b y it.4 This being an estab­ lished fact, we say that these faculties must have a nexus that joins them all together and to which they are bound as a group, where the relation of that nexus to these faculties is the same as the relation of the common sense to the individual senses that are [like] nurslings. [There must be such a nexus], for we are certain that these faculties distract one another (as you have learned from what preceded). 5 If there were no such nexus employing these [faculties], such that [the nexusJ would be distracted by one of them away from another, thus not employing the latter or managing it, then it would not be the case that one prevents another from its activity in some way nor is diverted from [its own activity ] . [This is so J because when one faculty has no connection with another faculty, the activity of the first does not prevent the second from performing its own activity since the instrument is not common [to both], the location is not common, and there is nothing else in common to unite them. �ow how can this be when we see that the act of sensing excites de­ sire, but the appetitive faculty is not affected by the sensible object as a sensible object? If it is affected but not inasmuch as [the object] is a sensible object, then the affection cannot be attributable to the desire for that sensible object, so it would have to be [attribut­ able to J what is doing the sensing. The two faculties, however, certainly cannot be a single faculty, and so the two faculties clearly belong to one thing. This is why we correctly say: "When we sense, we desire," and "When we saw such-and-such, we became angry." [ 2 ] :\ow this single thing with respect to which these faculties are joined as a whole is the thing that each of us sees as himself such that he says truly: "When we sense, we desire." This thing cannot be a body [for the following reasons]. First, it does not nec­ essarily follow from being a body as such that it is a gathering place for these faculties. If that were the case, that would belong to every body rather than to some thing by means of which [every body] comes to be such, since that thing is what primarily does the gathering together, that is, it is the perfection of the 4. See "The Soul," !.5, pars. 8-9. 5. Ibid., V 3, par. 2.

body inasmuch as it is a gathering place, and it is some­ thing other than the body. So the gathering place, then, is something that is not a body, that is, [it is J the soul. [ 3] Second, it has already been made clear that these faculties include what cannot be a corporeal thing residing in a body. 6 So this could raise the fol­ lowing doubt: if it is conceivable for these faculties to belong to a single thing despite the fact that they are not gathered together in it- since some do not inhere in bodies and others do-and, as corollary to their in­ dividual distinctions, they cannot have a single de­ scription that can be related to one thing, then why is that not the case now when all of them can be related to a body or a corporeal part? We say in response: Be­ cause this thing - the one that is not a body - can be a source of the faculties, and so some of them spread out from it to the instrument [ i.e., the body J, others are proper to itself, but all of them are traced back to it in a particular manner. The ones gathered together in the [bodily] instrument at a particular originating point are gathered in the instrument by that originat­ ing point when it spreads out from the thing [i.e., the soul] that is sufficient in itself without the instrument ( . . . ) .7 All of these faculties, however, cannot spread out from the body, for the relation of these faculties to the body is not by way of spreading out [from it] but by way of [its] receiving [them] . Spreading out can oc­ cur as a departure of the A ow from the source, but re­ ceiving cannot occur in such a manner. [4] Third, such a bodl is either (a) the whole body or (b) it is not the whole body. If (a) it is the whole body, then if it lost some part of itself, what we perceive to be us would not exist. It is not like that, however; for I would be myself even if I did not know that I have a hand or a leg or some other bodily member (as was stated earlier in other places).9 I suppose instead that they are my appendages, and I believe that they are in6. See "The Soul," V2. 7. Omitted here is a reference to further treatment of this later in the chapter. B. That is, the body that is posited as being "the thing that each of us sees as himself," par. 2. 9. See "The Soul," 1 . ! , par. 7.

The Cure, "The Soul" strum ents of mine that I use to fulfill certain needs. Were it not for those needs, I would have no use for them. I would also be myself when they did not exist. Let us return to what was stated earlier on our part. We say: If a human were created in a single instant such that his limbs were separated from one another and he could not see them, and it happened that he could not fee] them and they did not touch one another and he could not hear a single sound, he would not know that any of his organs exist, but he would know that he ex­ ists as uniquely a single thing despite not knowing everything else. H owever, what is unknown is not the same as what is known! These bodily members that we have are really only just like clothes that, because they have a lways been associated with us, we have come to think of as parts of ourselves. When we i mag­ ine our selves. we do not imagine them bare; rather, we imagine [our selves] to have enveloping bodies. The reason for that is the permanent association [of the two] . The fact, however, is that we have become accustomed to stripping off and discarding clothes i n a way w e are not accustomed t o doing with t h e bodily members, and so our belief that these are parts of us is more firmly entrenched than our belief that our gar­ ments are parts of us. [ 5] If it is (b) that such a body is not the whole body but rather one specific bodily organ, then that organ would be the thing that I believe to be me- unless what is intended in my believing that it is me is not that organ, even if it must have that organ. 1 0 I f, how­ ever, what that organ is, namely, its being a heart, a brain, or some other organ or organs with this de­ scription, is identical to it or its totality is identical to the thing that I perceive to be myself, then my per­ ception that I am must be my perception of that thing. But one thing from a single perspective cannot be both what is perceived and other than what is per­ ceived. 1 1 The situation is not like that anyway; for it is rather by sensing, listening, and experiential knowl­ edge that I know that I have a heart and a brain, not because I know that I am I. Thus, that organ on its own

10. If it is the latter, then the organ would be just part, albeit an essential one, of what is identified as the self. 1 1 . l11at is, what would be doing the perceiving.

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would not be the thing that I perceive to be me essen­ tially but only me accidentally, whereas the aim i n knowing about myself that I am me (that i s , t h e aim that I intend when I say "[ sensed, I intellected, I acted, and I, as something different than these descriptions, joined them together") is what I call T' [6] :\'ow, if someone said, "You also do not know that [ the T] is a soul," I would say that I always know it as the thing intended by what I call the "soul." I might not know it by the term "soul," but once I un­ derstand what I mean by soul, I understand that it is that thing and that it is what uses [bodily] instruments such as the motive and perceptive faculties. It is only as long as I do not understand the meaning of "soul" that I do not recognize [ that] . That is not the case with the heart or the brain; for I may understand what is meant by "heart" and "brain," but I do not know that [they are the "I"]. When I mean by "soul" that it is the thing that is the principle of these motions and per­ ceptions that I have and is what these [motions and perceptions] are traced back to in this whole, I recog­ nize that either it is in actual fact the "I" or it is the "I" as something using this body. Then, it would be as though I now am unable to distinguish the perception of me as distinct from the mixed perception that there is something that uses the body, and that there is some­ thing that is joined with the body. [7] As for whether it is a body or not a body, in my opinion it is by no means necessary that it be a body, nor that it appear to me in imagined form as any body whatsoever. Instead, its imagined form appears to me to be precisely without any corporeality. So I will have understood some part of the aspect of its not being a body when I do not understand it to have any corpo­ reality at the very same time that I understand [what it is] . Then, when I undertake an independent verifica­ tion, the more I add corporeality to this thing that is the principle of these acts, the less conceivable it will be for that thing to be a body. How much more fitting it would be for its first representation in my soul to be something that is different from these exterior aspects, and I am then misled by the association with bodily in­ struments, the sensory observation of those, and the is­ suance of actions from them, and I believe that [those exterior aspects] are like parts of me. It is not when an error has been made about something that a judgment

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Ibn S!na (Avicenna), 980--1 037

must pertain to it, but rather when the judgment per­ tains to what it is that has to be intellected. And it is not when I am investigating whether it exists and whether it is not a body that I am wholly ignorant of [these questions] . but rather when I neglect [to con­ sider these questions] . It is often the case that knowl­ edge about something is close at hand but one over­ looks it, and it becomes the very thing that is unknown and is investigated at the greatest remove. Sometimes

knowledge that is close at hand is like the reminder, and despite the least amount of effort it was l ike some­ thing overlooked, and so awareness does not tum to pursue it because it weakly understands it, in which case one needs to take a remote position in relation to it. From [all on this, it has become clear that these fac­ ulties have a gathering place to which all of them can be traced back, and that it is not a body, regardless of whether it is or is not joined with the body.

Al-Ghazali, c . l 0 5 5- l l l l

The growth of Aristotelianism in the Islamic East brought in its wake a critical reaction for which the most articulate spokesman was al-GhazalL Jurist and theologian of Ash'arite persuasion (see page 2 1 7), al­ Ghazali is in some ways reminiscent of Augustine. Like the Christian saint he had a skeptical streak within his nature, sampled a number of theological and philosophical positions, and left an autobio­ graphical record of his spiritual quests. But whereas Augustine remained faithful to philosophy through­ out his life, al-Ghazalr in the end became a mystic. Al-Ghazalr is of special philosophical interest for his detailed refutation of certain Aristotelian doc­ trines, as formulated by al-Farabr and Ibn Srna. To combat the Aristotelians, he first composed a sum­ mary of their views entitled The Intentions (Opinions) of the Philosophers (,\1aqa�id al-Falasifah ) . So impar­ tial was this summary that Christian scholastics, who knew no other work of his prior to the fourteenth cen­ tury, considered him an adherent of Ibn Sina's views. This preliminary study was followed by The Incoher­ ence of the Philosophers (Tahafut al-Falasifah), a work containing the actual refutation. Ibn Rushd in The In­ coherence of"The Incoherence" was to state the case for the philosophers later on. AI-Ghazalr's critique was not simply a pietistic at­ tack on the study of philosophy, but a reasoned at­ tempt to show what philosophy could do and what it could not do. Though there was a period during which he was an outright skeptic, he later gained the conviction that the complete rejection of philosophy was unwarranted. As many another philosopher of a skeptical bent of mind, al-Ghazalr had high regard for mathematics, parts of natural philosophy, and, espe-

cially, logic. Indeed, he advocated the application of Aristotelian logical methods to the solution of prob­ lems in Islamic theology. But when it came to meta­ physics, he was of the opinion that the philosophers had not made good their claims. In The Incoherence al-Ghazalr examined twenty propositions which, to his mind, the Aristotelians had not demonstrated. Though he was largely interested in refuting the proofs of the Aristotelians on philosophi­ cal grounds, he could not help but state that many of their propositions were contrary to religious teachings. The affirmation of three of them, he held, make one an infidel, while the affirmation of the rest place one in the somewhat less severe category of heretic. 1be three propositions that al-Chazalr found par­ ticularly objectionable illustrate aptly the tension existing between Islamic beliefs and Aristotelian teachings. Though the Aristotelians had claimed that their opinions were legitimate interpretations of Is­ lamic doctrines, al-Ghazali considered them as merely verbal, holding that they were, in fact, contrary to Is­ lamic beliefs. The first such doctrine was the philoso­ phers' denial of bodily resurrection. To be sure, the philosophers had admitted some form of spiritual im­ mortality to which resurrection symbolically referred, but, according to al-Chazalr, Islam required the l it­ eral affirmation of the doctrine which the philoso­ phers seemed to deny. Similarly, the Aristotelians appeared to hold that Cod knows only universals. This to al-Chazalr amounted to a denial of the reli­ gious meaning of individual providence. And finally, he considered the philosophers' identification of cre­ ation with emanation as equivalent to the belief that the world is eternal.

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Islamic Philosophy

As part of his critique ai..Chazalr scrutinized a number of philosophical concepts, primary among them that of cause and effect. Relying on the Ash 'arite notion that God's omnipotence requires that He be the only causal agent, he reduced all effects within the world to the direct causal action of God. Though sec­ ondary causes seem to be at work, one can at best speak of simultaneity between them and their effects, but any necessary connection between them must be denied. In fact, God is able to produce any effect with­ out an intermediate cause at all. Al-Ghazalr's denial of necessary causal connections within the world places him within a line of skeptical thinkers of whom per­ haps the best known is Hume. It seems likely that \"icholas of Autrecourt, who has been called "the me­ dieval Hume" (see page 650), was influenced by al­ Ghazalr's views. 1 Abu Hamid \1ubammad ibn Mubammad al­ Ghazalr was born in Tus, Persia (near the modern :vteshed) in 1 0 5 5 or 1 0 56. Orphaned at an early age, he was educated first in his native city and then in Ju­ rjan. In 1 077 he went to ;\ishapur, seat of an impor­ tant school, where he studied with al-Juwaynl, the great theologian of the age. After his teacher's death in 1 0 8 5 , he was invited by \"i?1im al-\1ulk, the powerful vizier of two Seljuk sultans, who received the young scholar with great respect. In 1 09 1 his patron ap­ pointed al-Ghazalr to the :\'i�amiyyah school in Bag­ dad, one of the most distinguished academic positions of the day. In addition, al-Ghazalr gained great influ­ ence in government circles. Though details are lack­ ing, this seems to have been the time during which he went through the extreme skeptical phase mentioned before. However, he overcame it "by a light which God most high cast into [his J breast." A popular lec­ turer who attracted over three hundred students, al­ Ghazall spent the first years in Bagdad in the private study of philosophy and in reflection upon what he had learned. It was probably at the end of this period that he wrote the two books mentioned above. AI..Chazal! underwent a spiritual crisis in 1 09 5 when, because o f a nervous ailment, he found it phys-

I . See S. Van den Bergh, tr., Averroes: Tahafut al-Taha­ fut, 2 vols. (London: Luzac, 1954), Vol. I, XXX.

ically impossible to lecture. After some months of in­ decision, he finally decided to leave Bagdad. AI..Chazalr attributes this decision to a concern for the welfare of his soul, but modern scholars have suggested that the reasons were perhaps political. Early biographical sources state that he spent the next eleven years in Syria, but it seems more likely that he spent part of the time in Damascus and part in other places. In leaving Bagdad ai..Chazall gave up his prominent position and his wealth and he became a poor Sufi (mystic) who spent his time in meditation and spiritual exercises. In 1 1 05-1 1 06, the son of \"i�am al-\1ulk, his former benefactor, prevailed upon him to teach again, and he accepted a position at \"ishapur. However, toward the end of his life he retired to his native Tus, where he opened a kind of monastery in which he taught Sufism. He died in 1 1 1 1 . Bibliographers attribute over four hundred works to al..ChazalL Even if one allows for duplications of titles and false attributions, it can be seen that he was an ex­ tremely productive author. His works deal with Islamic law, theology, philosophy, polemics, and the beliefs and practices of Sufism. Besides the two works de­ scribed before, his autobiographical The Deliverance from Error (al-Munqidh min al-Dalal) and his monu­ mental theological work The Revival of the Religious Sciences (II;ya ' 'Ulum al-Dfn ) should be mentioned. The two selections in this volume are drawn from The Incoherence of the Philosophers. The first exam­ ines the philosophical notion that the world has always existed -a teaching invariably, if somewhat mislead­ ingly, known as "the doctrine of the eternity of the world." (The word 'eternity' can in theory be mislead­ ing because it is also used to refer to the divine mode of existence that does not involve succession in any way. The 'eternity' referred to in the expression "eter­ nity of the world," by contrast, involves infinite suc­ cessive duration.) AI-Ghazall sets forth what he takes to be the strongest philosophical argument in favor of the eternity of the world and then offers his detailed rebuttal. The second selection is taken from the final sec­ tion of The Incoherence of the Philosophers, in which al..Chazall discusses the nahual sciences. Having enu­ merated the eight kinds of natural sciences and their seven subdivisions, he goes on to state that the reli-

Al-Ghaziilf, c. l 055-1 1 1 1

gious Law does not require a believer to disagree with

the findings of these sciences except on four points that the philosophers affirm: ( I ) the connection be­ tween cause and effect is a necessary connection, (2) human souls are self-subsistent substances which, af­ ter death, exist in separation from the body, ( 3 ) the hu­ man soul cannot cease to exist, and (4) the denial of the resurrection of the body. This selection is devoted to the first of these top­ ics. Al-Chazalr presents the position of the philoso­ phers, together with supporting arguments, under three headings and then goes on to counter each one with arguments of his own. It is noteworthy that al-

267

Chazalr is not a radical voluntarist who holds that Cod can do anything he pleases. In fact, in the se­ lection, he attacks certain �utakallimOn for defend­ ing this view, maintaining instead that God cannot do anything that is logically impossible. He further holds that God governs the world according to a certain order, but this order is not necessary and God can circumvent it whenever He wishes. Some­ what more technically, it seems to be his view that possibility and necessary causality are incompatible and that something possible can only become actual through a voluntary cause. :\'ecessity is limited to log­ ical relations.

2 3 . The Incoherence of the Philosophers, On the Eternity of the World [ I ] Differentiating the Received View. The philoso­ phers differ concerning the world's eternity, but the opinion upon which the majority of them, modern and ancient, have settled is to claim that it is eternal. It has never ceased existing together with God (exalted is He!) but is H is effect and is concurrent with Him, not being temporally posterior to H im but [exists to­ gether with God] in the way that the effect is concur­ rent with the cause, such as l ight is concurrent with the Sun. Also the Creator is prior to it like the cause is prior to the effect, namely, essentially prior and prior in rank but not in time. [2] That the world is generated and created in time is referenced in Plato. 1 Some of the [philosophers] sub­ sequently interpreted away his [literal] words, denying that he believed in the world's temporal creation. [3] At the end of Galen's life, in the book titled What Galen Believes to Be Opinion, he reached a deadlock on this problem, not knowing whether the world is eternal or temporally created. He may have shown that it could not be known - not because of a

From Classical Arabic Philosophy, tr. Jon YlcGinnis and David C. Reisman (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Com­ pany, 2007). Reprinted by permission of the publisher. I . Al..Chazali is referring to the creation account pre­ sented in Plato's Timaeus. Within the ancient and me­ dieval worlds there was a debate about what Plato's true position was. Speusippus and Xenocrates, Plato's succes­ sors at the Academy, thought that Plato's eternal demi­ urge, or God, was causally, but not temporally, prior to creation. The Yliddle Platonists Plutarch and Atticus in contrast maintained that Plato thought that the world was created at some first moment in time. The great �eopla­ tonist Proclus criticized this latter interpretation of Plato in a work On the Eternity of the World, which was in its turn criticized by the later �eoplatonist John Philoponus in his Against Proclus. Both works were available in Ara­ bic translation. 268

deficiency on his part, but owing to the inherent diffi­ culty of this problem itself for [human] intellects. This, however, is something of a deviation from the standard view of all of them, which is simply that [the world] is eternal, and in general that it is wholly in­ conceivable that something temporal should proceed immediately from something eternal. [ 4] The Presentation of Their Proofs. If I were to di­ gress to describe what has been conveyed in order to exhibit their evidence and what has been mentioned in rejecting it, I would fill many pages on this prob­ lem; however, there is no good in lengthening the dis­ cussion. So let us omit their proofs that are arbitrary or weak fancy, which any one with reason can easily re­ solve, and limit ourselves to presenting [the proofs] that leave a strong impression on the mind and that can give rise to doubt even for those of outstanding reason; for by the most feeble [of proofs] one can pro­ duce doubt in the weak. [ 5 ] [ . . . ] [Their Strongest Proof ] They claim that the procession of the temporal from the eternal is ab­ solutely impossible. [That is] because when we posit the eternal but not, for example, the world's pro­ ceeding from it, then it does not proceed precisely, because there is no selectively determining factor for the [world's] existence, but rather the world's exis­ tence would be a pure possibility. So if [the world] temporally comes to be after that, then a selectively determining factor must either come to be anew or not. On the one hand, if a selectively determining factor does not come to be anew, then the world re­ mains purely possible j ust as it was before. On the other hand, if a selectively determining factor comes to be anew, then who is the creator of that selectively determining factor, and why did it temporally create now and not earlier? The question concerning the temporal creation of the selectively determining fac­ tor still stands. [6] In brief, when the states of the eternal are sim­ ilar, then either nothing exists from it or [something]

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, On the E terni ty of the World exists perpetually, for it is impossible to distinguish the state of refraining from the state of commencing. [i] Its independent verification is to ask, "Why did [the Creator] not temporally create the world before [the moment] of its creation?" It can neither be attrib­ uted to His i na bili ty to create te mporally nor to the im­ possibility of the temporal creation. Indeed, that would lead either to a change in the Eternal from being un­ able [to create] to having the power [ to create], or to the world's changing from being impossible to being possible, both of which are absurd. It cannot be said that there had been no previous wish and thereafter a wish came to be anew. Also it cannot be attributed to lacking an instrument, which thereafter came to exist. In fact, the nearest one can imagine is to say, " [The Creator] did not will i ts existence," in which case it must be said, " ["lbe world's] existence came to be be-­ cause He came to will its existence after not willing [it]." In that case the will would have been temporally created, but its temporal creation in Him is absurd, be-­ cause He is not that in which temporally occurring things inhere, and [the will's] temporal creation is nei­ ther in Him nor makes Him One Who wills. [8] Let us set aside speculating about the substrate of [the will's] creation. Does not the difficulty con­ cerning the origin of [ the will's] creation still stand, namely, from whence is it created and w hy was it cre­ ated now but not earlier? Was its being created now not due to God? If there can be a temporal event with­ out a creator, then let the world be a temporal event that does not have a \1aker, otherwise what is the dif­ ference between one temporal event and another? Also, if it is created by a creation of God, then why did He create now and not earlier? Was it because of an absence of an instrument or power or intent or nature? But then why, if that l absence] is replaced with exis­ tence, was it created? The very same difficulty returns! Or is it owing to the absence of the will? But then the w i ll would need a will and likewise the first will, [ re-­ su l ti ng] in an infinite regress. [9] Thus, it has been ind ependentl y verified by absolute argumentation that the procession of the temporal from the eternal without the change of some-­ thing pertaining to the eternal, whether a power, in­ strument, moment, intent, or nature, is absurd. To assign a change of state [ to the eternal] is impossible,

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because that temporal change would be like any other, the whole of which is absurd. Inasmuch as the world exists and its temporal creation is impossible, its eter­ nity is necessarily established. [ 1 0 ] This is the most imaginative of their proofs. In general, their discussion concerning the rest of the metaphysical problems is poorer than their discussion concerning this problem, since here they exploit cer­ tain sorts of imagination that they cannot in the others. Because of that we have treated this problem, the strongest of their proofs, first. [ 1 1 ] The refutation comes from two fronts. [ 1 2 ] The first of them is to ask, By what means would you [philosophers J censure one who says, "The world is temporally created by means of an eternal will that made necessary [the world's] existence at the mo­ ment at which it came to exist; [the world's J nonexis­ teuce continued to the limit up to which it continued, and the existence began from whence it began; before the existence it was not something willed and so owing to that was not created, but at the moment at which it was created, it was willed by the eternal will and so owing to that was created"? What precludes this belief and would render it absurd? [ 1 3 ] It might be said that this is self-evidently ab­ surd, because the temporal is something necessitated and caused. Just as it is impossible that there is some-­ thing temporal without a cause and what necessitates i t, [so l ikewise ] it is impossible that what necessitates should exist, having been complete in the conditions, principles, and causes for its necessitating, such that no awaited thing remains at all, but then what is ne­ cessitated is delayed. Quite the contrary, the existence of what is necessitated is necessary when there is the realization of wh a t necessitates with the completion of its conditions. The absurdity of its delay is tantamount to the impossibility that the temporally necessitated exists without what necessitates [ it]. [ 1 4] Before the world's existence, the one who wills, the will, and its relation to the one who wills [all] existed, and neither did the one who wills, nor the will, nor some relation that did not belong to the will come to be anew, for all of that is to change. So [the rebuttal continues] , how did that which is willed come to be anew, and what prevented [its J coming to be anew earlier? The new state is no different from

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Al-Ghaziilf, c. I 055-l l l l

the previous state with respect to some factor, state of affairs, state, or relation. In fact, the states of affairs were just the same as they were [before ] . Therefore, what is willed would not have existed but would have remained the same as it was. But [on the present view] the willed object comes to exist! What is this, but the most extreme absurdity?! [ 1 5 ] The impossibility of this type is not only in what necessitates and what is necessitated necessarily and essentially, [continue the philosophers ] , but also in the customary and conventional; for if a man were to pronounce [the legal declaration] divorcing his wife and the separation were not to occur immediately, then it is inconceivable that it would occur later, be­ cause the pronouncement is made a cause of the [ di­ vorced] status by convention and accepted practice. So the delay of the effect is unintelligible unless the divorce is linked with the coming of tomorrow or the entrance into the house, and so it does not occur im­ mediately. It will occur, however, with the coming of tomorrow or the entrance into the house, for he has made it a cause in relation to some awaited thing. So since it, that is, tomorrow or the entrance, is not pres­ ent at the moment, the occurrence of what is necessi­ tated [must] await the presence of what is not present. So what is necessitated does not occur unless some­ thing has come to be anew, namely, the entrance or the presence of tomorrow. Even if he were to want to delay what necessarily results from the [legal] decla­ ration without [ making it] conditional on an event that is not [presently] occurring, it would be unintel­ l igible, despite the fact that it is conventional and that he makes the choice with respect to the details of the convention. So if we cannot posit this [delay] by our own desire, nor make it intelligible, then how can we make it intelligible with respect to essential, intellec­ tual, and necessary necessitations? [ 1 6] Concerning customary things, what occurs by means of our intention is not delayed after there is the intention along with the intention to do it, except by some obstacle. So if the intent and power are realized and the obstacles removed, then the delay of what is intended is unintelligible. The former is conceivable only in the case of resolve, because the resolve is in­ sufficient for the action's existence. In fact, the resolve to write does not occasion writing so long as there is

not also a renewal of the intention, that is, the renewal of the state to act reemerges in the human [at the ti me he does write]. [ 1 7] If the eternal will has the same status as our in­ tention to act, then, unless there is an obstacle, it is in­ conceivable that what is intended should be delayed and that the intention should be earlier [than the act]. So an intention today to carry through [with some ac­ tion] tomorrow is intelligible only by way of resolve. If the eternal will has the same status as our resolve, then that [alone] is insufficient for the occurrence of what is resolved; rather, at the time that [what is resolved] is made to exist, there is inevitably a new intentional reemergence, in which there is an admission that the Eternal changes. \1oreover, the very same difficulty remains concerning why that emergence or intention or will (or whatever you want to call it) was created now and not earlier. So it still remains [that] a tempo­ ral event is either without a cause or there is an infi­ nite regress. [ 1 8] The gist of the discussion reduces to the ne­ cessitating thing's existing with the conditions for [ the necessitated effect] completed and no anticipated thing remaining, and yet what is necessitated is de­ layed, and delayed for a period of time whose begin­ ning the imagination cannot even fathom - indeed, a thousand years would not even be a drop in the bucket- and then all of a sudden the necessitated thing pops up without anything's coming to be anew or some condition being realized. This is simply absurd! [ 1 9] The response is to ask whether it is through the necessity of reason or inference that you [philoso­ phers) know that an eternal will that is related to a cer­ tain thing's temporal creation (whatever that thing should be) is impossible? According to your own logi­ cal terminology, do you know the connection between these two terms [i.e., "eternal Will" and "temporal cre­ ation"] through a middle term, or without a middle term? If, on the one hand, you maintain that there is a middle term, which is the way of inference, then it must be made obvious. If, on the other hand, you maintain that that [connection] is known necessarily, then how is it that those at odds with you do not share your view about its being known [necessarily] ? [And why is it not the case that] no land contains the school of thought that believes in the world's temporal ere-

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, On the Eternity of the World ation by an eternal will, when [ in fact] there are in­ numerable [lands whose people believe in creation ] ? Undoubtedly they do not stubbornly disregard [ their] intellects while possessing the knowledge. Thus, it is i ncumbent [upon you] to construct a logical demon­ stration that shows the impossibility of that, since in all of what you have stated [you have shown] only im­ probability and analogy with our resolve and will. On the one hand, [the analogy] is imperfect; for the eter­ nal will is not analogous with temporal intentions. On the other hand, probability taken simply is not enough [to show that the world is eternal ] without a demonstration. [20] 1t might be said, "We do know by the necessity of reason that what necessitates with the completion of its conditions is inconceivable without there being what is necessitated, and the one who allows [other­ wise] is showing contempt for the necessity of reason." [2 1 ] We ask, What is the difference between you and your opponents when they say to you that we nec­ essarily know the inconsistency of the claim, "A single entity knows all the universals without that [knowl­ edge] requiring multiplicity, and without the knowl­ edge being something additional to the entity, and without the knowledge being made multiple despite the multiplicity of objects known"? This is your posi­ tion concerning Cod's reality, but with respect to us and to what we understand, it is inconsistent in the ex­ treme! But you will say, "Eternal knowledge is not to be compared with temporal [knowledge] ." :\ow there is a group among you who was aware of the inconsis­ tency of the above and so said that Cod only knows Himself, in which case He is what intellects, the in­ tellection and the object of intellection, and the whole is one. What if one should say that the unification of intellection, what intellects, and the object of intel­ lection is necessarily impossible, since it is necessarily absurd to suppose that the world's \1aker does not know what He makes? If the Eternal knows only Him­ self (may He be greatly exalted above your claim and the claim of all those who distort the truth), then He simply will not know what He makes. [22] In fact, we would not be overstepping the re­ quirements of this question to ask by what means would you censure your opponents should they say that the world's eternity is absurd, because it comes

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down to affirming an infinite uumber of rotations of the celestial sphere, whose units are innumerable, while simultaneously [affirming that those units are di­ visible into] sixths, fourths, and halves? For the sphere of the Sun completes its rotation in one year, whereas it takes the sphere of Saturn thirty years; thus Saturn's rotations are three-tenths those of the Sun. Also Jupiter's rotations are one-half of one-sixth [i.e., one­ twelfth] those of the Sun, for it completes a rotation in twelve years. \1oreover, Saturn's number of rotations would be infinite, just as is the Sun's; nevertheless, [Saturn's] would be three-tenths [of the Sun's]. In fact, the infinite number of rotations of the sphere of the fixed stars, which takes thirty-six thousand years to complete a single rotation, would be equal to the infi­ nite number of the Sun's eastward motions, which are [completed] in but a day and night. Should one say that this is something whose impossibility is known necessarily, how would you dispose of his claim? [23] Indeed, one might ask whether the number of these rotations is even, odd, both even and odd, or nei­ ther even nor odd. If you say either that they are both even and odd or that they are neither even nor odd, the falsity [of this claim] is known necessarily. If you say that they are even, in which case the even would become odd by one unit, then how could what is infi­ nite be lacking one unit? If you say that they are odd, in which case the odd would become even by one unit, then how could it lack that single unit by which it would become even? Thus, the claim that [the num­ ber of rotations] is neither even nor odd becomes in­ cumbent upon you. If it is said that even and odd are attributed only to the finite but are not attributed to the infinite, we reply that a totality composed of units that has a sixth and tenth, as previously mentioned, and yet even and odd is not attributed to it, is known to be false necessarily without reflection. So by what means do you disassociate yourselves from this? [24] [The philosopher] might say that the locus of the error is in your claim that [the heavenly rotations] are a totality composed of units; for these rotations are nonexistents. [They are] either past, and so they no longer exist, or future, and so they do not yet exist, whereas "totality" indicates presently existing things, but in this case there is nothing existing [such as to be a totality].

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Al-Ghazalr, c. 1 055-I l l l

[ 2 5 ] We say that number divides into the even and odd, and it is impossible that what is numbered should lie outside of [this division ] , regardless of whether it is something that continues to exist or perishes. So when we posit a number of horses, we must believe that [the number] is either even or odd, regardless of whether we suppose [the horses] to be existing or nonexisting. If they cease to exist after existing, this proposition does not change. [26] \.1oreover, we say to them that it is not impos­ sible according to your own principles that there are presently existing things that are individuals varying in description and [yet] are infinite, namely, the human souls separated from the body by death, in which case they will exist without even and odd being attributed to them. So by what means do you censure the one who says that the falsity of this is recognized necessar­ ily just as you claimed that the eternal will's associa­ tion with creating temporally is necessarily false? This opinion concerning the soul is the one that Ibn Sina chose and perhaps is Aristotle's position as well. [27] It might be said that the truth lies with Plato's opinion, namely, that the soul is eternal and one and divided only with relation to bodies, but when they are separated from [the bodies], they return to their source and are united.2 We say that this is most atrocious, most repugnant, and most deserving of being believed to be contrary to the necessity of reason. For we ask: Is Zayd's soul the very same soul as 'Amr's or is it differ­ ent? If it is the very same one, then it is necessarily false, for everyone is aware of himself and knows that he is not some other individual. If it were the very same, then the two would be the same with respect to the things they know, which are essential attributes of the souls, entering along with the souls into every re­ lation. If you say [Zayd's and 'Amr's souls] are differ­ ent and divided only by the association with bodies, we say that the division of the individual who has no magnitude with respect to bulk and quantitative mag­ nitude is absurd by the necessity of the intellect. So how will the individual [soul] become two - in fact a thousand-and thereafter return and become one!?

2. See Plato, Meno 8 l a-e; Phaedo 8 I e-82b; and Repub­ lic 6 1 7d--62 l d.

Indeed, this is intelligible concerning what has bulk or quantity, such as the water of the sea, which divides into streamlets and rivers and then returns to the sea but as for what has no quantity, how could it be di� vided!? [28] The whole of our intention is to make clear that [the philosophers] have neither undermined the belief of those who oppose them concerning the eter­ nal will's relation to creating temporally, except by the pretension of necessity, nor have they disposed of the one who invokes necessity against them in those issues that are opposed to their belief, from which there is no escape. [ 29] It might be, [the philosopher complains], that this turns against you in that God was able to create the world before He did by a year or several years ow­ ing to His infinite power. It is as if He bided His time, not creating, and then created. Is the [temporal] ex­ tent of [ His] refraining either finite or infinite? If you say, on the one hand, that it is finite, the existence of the Creator goes back to the finite beginning. On the other hand, if you say that it is infinite, then there would have been a period during w·hich an infinite number of possibilities had elapsed. [ 30] We say that in our opinion duration and time are created, and we shall explain the true nature of the answer to this when we dispose of their second proof. 1 ( 3 1 ] If [the philosopher] asks by what means would you deny one who refrains &om invoking necessity and proves [the impossibility of an eternal will's tem­ porally creating the world] in another wav, namely, that moments of time arc indiscernible with respect to the possibility that the will has a preference for :one on them [ over the others]. So what is it that distin3. The philosophers' second argument for the eternity of the world and al-Ghazall's refutation of it are not trans­ lated here; however, the philosophers' argument is much like that outlined in the immediately preceding para­ graph, 29. Al-Ghaza!I's response was to say that since time is among the things that God creates, it is inappropriate to ask about the time when God was not creating. The philosophers have been misled by the estimative faculty, continued al-Ghaza!I, into assuming that since one can imagine something only as existing in time, whatever ex­ ists must be in time.

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, On the Eternity of the World guished one determinate moment of time from what was before or after it, when it is not absurd that what is willed should be earlier and later? In fact, with re­ spect to white and black and motion and rest, you [the­ ologians] yourselves say that the white is temporally created by the eternal will, but the substrate is [just ;;s] receptive to black [as] it is to receiving white. So why does the eternal will prefer white over black? What is it that distinguished one of the two possibilities from the other with respect to the will's having a preference for it? We [philosophers] know necessarily that some­ thing cannot be distinguished from its like except by some specific property. :\ow if [some specific prop­ erty] were possible, then the temporal creation of the world would be possible. [In fact], however, the possi­ bility [of the world's] existing is just like the possibility [of its] not existing, and the aspect of existing, which is like the aspect of not existing with respect to possi­ bility, would be specified without any specific prop­ erty. If you [theologians] say that it is the will that specifies, then the question arises about the will's spec­ ifying: "Why did it specify [it]?" If you say that why­ questions do not apply to the eternal, then let the world be eternal and do not seek its Ylaker and cause, because why-questions do not apply to the eternal. [32] :\ext, [continues the philosopher's objection ] , if one allows that i t i s b y chance that the eternal [will] specified one of the two possibilities, then it is at the pinnacle of improbability to say that the world is spec­ ified by some specific design when it could have been according to some other design instead of [the one it in fact has ] , and so its occurring as such would be said to be by chance. Just as you said that the will specified one moment to the exclusion of another, it [would have specified] one design to the exclusion of another by chance. If you say this question is not necessary because it anses for whatever He wills and refers to whatever He has power over, we say, ":\o! Quite the contrary, this question is necessary because it does re­ fer to any moment and is necessary for whoever differs from us concerning [whether there is J any power over [something] ." [ 3 3 ] We respond that the world came to exist when it did and according to the description [with] which it came to exist and in the place in which it came to ex­ ist only by will. The will is an attribute whose charac-

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ter is to distinguish something from its like. If this were not its character, then one would settle content with the power; however, since the power's relation to two contraries is equal, and there must be something that specifies one thing from its like, it is said that, in addition to power, the Eternal has an attribute whose character is to specify one thing from its like. So ask­ ing, "Why did the will specify one of two things?" is just like asking, "Why does knowledge require com­ prehending the object of knowledge as it is'" The an­ swer is because knowledge is equivalent to an attribute whose character is this, and so in similar fashion the will is equivalent to an attribute whose character is this. In fact, its very essence is to distinguish one thing from its like. [ 34] ['The philosopher] might say that affirming an attribute whose character is to distinguish one thing from its like is unintelligible. :\ay, it is outright con­ tradictory; for the sense of one's being like [the other] is that it cannot be distinguished from [the other] , whereas the sense of being distinguished is that it is not like [the other] . One should not erroneously suppose that two black things in two locations are like one an­ other in every respect, since this one is in one location while that one is in another location, and this is nec­ essarily the distinction. :\or are two black things at two moments in time in a single location like one another absolutely, since this one is separate from that one with respect to the moment of time. So how can one be indiscernible from [the other] in every respect! ? When we say two black things are similar to one an­ other, b�- [being similar to one another] we mean with respect to the blackness as something related to the two, specifically [as something black] not absolutely. Otherwise, if the location and time were one [and the same] and nothing different remained, then neither two black things nor their being two would be intelli­ gible at all. This is independently verified [in] that the expression "will" is a metaphorical expression derived from our will, but it is inconceivable of us that we distinguish one from its like. Quite the contrary, if immediately before a thirsty person there were two glasses of water indiscernible in every respect in rela­ tion to his desire, he would not be able to take one of the two; rather, he would take only what seems to him superior or easier to lay hold of or nearer to his right

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Al-Chazal!, c. I 0; ;- 1 1 1 1

side (if his habit is to move the right hand) or some other such cause, whether hidden or obvious, other­ wise distinguishing one thing from its l ike is altogether inconceivable. [ 3 5 ] The response comes from two fronts. [ 36] The first concerns [the philosopher's] claim that this is inconceivable. Do you recognize i t as some­ thing necessary or as an inference7 It is impossible to invoke either one of these. Also your likening [the eter­ nal will] with our will is an imperfect analogy compa­ rable to the analogy concerning knowledge. God's knowledge is distinct from our knowledge with respect to the issues that we have established. So why would the distinction with respect to [our and the eternal] will be improbable? In fact, it is just like one who says that it is unintelligible that there is a being who exists neither outside the world nor inside of it, nor is con­ nected nor disconnected [from it] , [simply] because we do not intellectually grasp it regarding ourselves. [The philosopher] may respond that the former is the work of your estimative faculty, whereas intellectual proof has led those who are intellectually endowed to affirm the latter. So by what means do you [philoso­ phers] deny whoever says that intellectual proof leads to affirming an attribute of God (may He be exalted!) whose character is to distinguish one thing from its like? If the name "will" does not correspond with [this attribute], then give it some other name; for there is no quibble over names, and we have used it only on the sanction of the divine law. Otherwise "will" is something imposed by language in order to designate whatever concerns an object of wish, whereas with re­ spect to God there is no object of wish. Only the meaning is intended, not the utterance. [37] \1oreover, we do not concede that regarding ourselves that is inconceivable.4 So [let] us posit two indiscernible dates immediately before someone who is hungrily looking at them but is incapable of taking both. He will take one of them necessarily through an attribute whose character is to specify one thing from its like. Everything you mentioned concerning speci­ fications of superiority, proximity, or facility of access,

4. I.e., it is not inconceivable that the human will can distinguish indiscernibles.

we determine, by supposition, to be absent, but the possibility of taking remains. You have two options: either ( I ) to say that the indiscernibility in relation to his desires is wholly inconceivable, which is fatuous given that the supposition [of the date's indiscernibil­ ity] is possible; or (2) to say that when the indiscerni­ bility is supposed, the hungrily longing man would always remain undecided, staring at the two [ dates] but not taking either of them simply by willing, but choosing to stand aloof from the desire, which is also absurd, whose falsity is known necessarily. Thus, any­ one investigating the true nature of voluntary action, whether directly or indirectly, must affirm an attribute whose character is to specify one thing from its like. [ 3 8 ] The second manner of objection is for us to say that in your own school of thought you do not dispense with specifying one thing from another; for [according to you] , the world came to exist from its ne­ cessitating cause according to some specified design similar to its opposite. So why was it specified with some aspects [and not others], when there is no dif­ ference in the impossibility of distinguishing one thing from its like, whether with respect to [voluntary] action or what is entailed naturally or by necessity7 [ 39] You might say that the world's universal order cannot but be according to the manner that came to exist. If the world were either smaller or bigger than what it presently is, then this order would not be com­ plete, and the same is said of the number of the celes­ tial spheres and planets. You maintain that the large is different from the small, and that the many are distinct from the few concerning what is willed of it, and so they are not alike. Quite the contrary, [the philosopher continues] , these are different, except that the human lcognitive] faculty is too weak to grasp the aspects of wisdom concerning their magnitudes and their differ­ entiations. The wisdom is grasped only concerning some of them, such as the wisdom concerning the in­ clination of the sphere of the Zodiac from the equa­ tor, and the wisdom concerning the apogee and the eccentric sphere. Frequently, the underlying reason is not grasped concerning them, but their differing is recognized. It is not unlikely that one thing is distin­ guished from its opposite because of the thing's rela­ tion to the order. \1oments of time, however, are abso­ lutely similar vis-a-vis possibility and order, and one

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, On the Ete rni ty of the World cannot claim that if [the world] were created after or before it was by one instant that the order would be in­ conceivable; for the similarity of the [temporal] states is known necessarily. [40] We say that even though we could oppose you in a similar way with respect to the [temporal] states­ since there are those who said that [God] created [the world] at the moment that was most suitable for its cre­ ation-we shall nonetheless not content ourselves with this comparison. Instead, on the basis ofyour own principle, we shall require you to specify [one thing from its like] in two situations concerning which no difference can be assigned. One is the difference of di­ rection of the motion of the [celestial spheres] . and the other is assigning the position of the pole with respect to the motion along the [Zodiacal] belt [i.e., ecliptic motion] . [41 ] The illustration of the pole is that the heaven is a sphere rotating around two poles as if the two re­ mained fixed. The sphere of the heavens is something whose parts are similar (for it is simple) and especially the outermost celestial sphere, which is the ninth (for it is wholly without stars). Also, [these spheres] are moved5 around a northern and southern pole. ;-..row we say that there are no two points among the points, which in [the philosophers'] opinion are infinite, that cannot be conceived as being the pole. So why have the northern and southern points been assigned to be poles and to remain fixed? Why does the line of the [Zodiacal] belt not pass through the two points [and continue on] until the pole returns to two opposite points on the [Zodiacal] belt? If there is a wisdom con­ cerning the magnitude of the heavens' largeness and its shape, then what is it that distinguishes the location of one pole from another so that the one was assigned to be a pole and not any of the other parts and points, when all the points are alike and all the parts of the sphere are indiscernible? From this there is no escape. [42] [The philosopher] might say that perhaps the position that corresponds with the point of the pole is 5. The text's specific claim that there are two things moved probably refers to what has an apparent westward motion, namely, the outermost sphere, and what has an apparent eastv.·ard motion, namely, the rest of the spheres.

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distinct from the others by a special property that ac­ cords with its being a location for the pole so that it re­ mains fixed. So it is as if [the position of the pole J does not move from its place, space, position (or whatever names are applied to it) , whereas the celestial sphere's remaining positions do exchange their position rela­ tive to the Earth and the [other] spheres by rotating. :\ow the pole's position remains fixed, and so perhaps that position was worthier of remaining the fixed posi­ tion than the others. [43 ] We respond that in this there is an open ac­ knowledgment of the natural dissimilarity of the parts of the first sphere, and that [the first sphere J is not something whose parts are similar, which is contrary to your own principle, since one [of the principlesJ by which you proved that the heavens are necessarily spherically shaped is that the naturally simple is some­ thing similar [throughout] without dissimilarity. Now the simplest figure is the sphere (for the quadrangle, hexagon, and the like require projecting angles and their dissimilarities, which only results from some­ thing in addition to the simple nature). Even though [your response] is contrary to your own standard view, it still does not ward off the necessary consequences following from it; for the question concerning that spe­ cial property arises, since [there is still the question of] whether the rest of the parts are susceptible to that spe­ cial property or not. If, on the one hand, [the philoso­ phers J say, "Yes," then why does the special property specify one from among the similar things? If, on the other hand, they say, "That [special property] is only with respect to that position, and none of the others is susceptible to it," we say that the remaining parts, inas­ much as they are a body receptive to the forms, are necessarily similar. That position [of the pole] is no more deserving of that special property [than the others] by simply being either a body or a heaven. In­ deed, this sense is common to all the rest of the parts of the heaven. Inevitably, [God's] specifying it is either by fiat or an attribute whose character is to specify one thing from its l ike. Otherwise it is just as proper for [the theologians] to claim that the [temporal] states are indiscernible with respect to the susceptibility of the world's occurring at [one of] them as it is for their opponent [to claim] that the parts of the heaven are indiscernible with respect to the susceptibility of the

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Al-Ghaziilz, c. 1 055-1 1 1 1

thing (ma'nci), on account of which the position's re­ maining fixed is more fitting than the position's chang­ ing. From this there is no escape. [ 44] The second necessity is to assign a direction to the celestial spheres' motion; some of [the spheres] move from east to west, whereas others move in just the opposite direction, despite the indiscernibility of directions. What is their cause, when the indiscerni­ bility of directions is just like the indiscernibility of moments of times and are without difference? [ 45] It might be said that if everything were to ro­ tate in one direction, then neither would the relative positions of [the stars and planets J vary, nor would the stars' relations [to one another] as trine, sextine, in conjunction,6 and the like come to be. lnstead, every­ thing would have a single relative position that never varies, but these relations are the principle of coming to be in the world. [46] We say that we are not clinging to [the posi­ tion] that the difference of the motion's direction does not exist. Quite the contrary, we say that the outermost celestial sphere is moved from east to west and that which is below it [is moved] in the opposite direction. �ow whatever can cause it to happen in this way can cause it to happen in the opposite way, namely, that the outermost celestial [sphere could] be moved from east to west and the opposite for what is below it, in which case there would be the dissimilarities. The motion's direction, setting aside its rotating and being opposite, is indiscernible. So why is one direction dis­ tinguished from another that is its like? [ 47] If they say, "The two directions are opposites and contrary so how could they be indiscernible?" we say that this is just like one who says that priority and posteriority with respect to the world's existence are contraries, and so how can one invoke their similarity? They allege, however, that one knows the similarities of moments of time by relation to possible existence and to any benefit supposedly thought to exist. But in like fashion one knows the indiscernibility of the

6. That is to say, when the aspect of two bodies is 1 20 degrees, 60 degrees, or 1 80 degrees between each other, respectively.

spaces, positions, places, and directions by the relation to the motion's susceptibility and any benefit that is associated with it. So if they are allowed to invoke dif­ ference despite this similarity, their opponents are al­ lowed to invoke difference concerning [ temporal] states and design as well. [48] The second objection against the principle of their proof is to say that you [philosophersJ regard the temporal creation of a temporal event from an eternal improbable, and yet you [must] inevitably admit it; for there are temporal events in the world and they have causes, but if temporal events were based on temporal events infinitely, there would be an absurdity, which is simply not a belief of an intelligent person. If [an infinite causal chain] were possible, then you could dispense with admitting a \1aker and establishing a necessary existence as the basis of the possibles. When temporal events have a limit at which their causal chain terminates such that that limit is the eternal, then, according to [the philosophers' own J principle, the possibility of a temporal event's proceeding from an eternal is inevitable. [49] It might be said, "We do not find a temporal event's proceeding from an eternal improbable. What we in fact find improbable is that a first temporal event should proceed from an eternal, since there is no dif­ ference between the very moment of the creation and what was before it with respect to selectively deter­ mining the aspect of existence, which does not [differ j inasmuch as it is a present moment, an instrument, a condition, a nature, a wish, or any other cause. When the event is not the fi rst, it is permitted that it proceeds from [an eternalj when there is the creation of some other thing, such as the preparedness of the receiving substrate and the presence of the fitting moment, and whatever is analogous to this. [ 50] We say that the problem concerning the oc­ currence of the preparedness, the presence of the mo­ ment, and whatever is renewed, still stands: either there is an infinite causal regress or it terminates in an eternal from which the first temporal event results. [ 5 1 ] It might be said that the matter's receptivity to forms, accidents, and qualities is not at all some­ thing temporally coming to be. The qualities that temporally come to be are the motion of the celestial

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, On the Eternity of the World spheres, I mean the rotation, and the renewal of their relational attributes such as being trine, sextine, and quadrate,' that is, the relation of some of the parts of the celestial sphere, stars, and planets to one another, and the relation of some of them to the Earth. Exam­ ples are the occurrence of ascending and descending, passing from the highest point of elevation, remote­ ness from the Earth by the star or planet's being at apogee as well as proximity by its being at perigee, and its inclination away from some celestial or terrestrial zones by their being in the north and south. This re­ lation [of the heavenly bodies] follows necessarily be­ cause of the rotation, and so the rotation necessitates it. As for the temporal events encompassed within the sublunar realm, namely, by the appearance of gener­ ation and corruption, mixing and separating, as well as the alteration of one attribute for another in the el­ ements, all of those are temporal events depending upon one another in an extended ordering of differ­ ence�. In the end, however, the principles of their causes terminate at the celestial rotation and the stars and planets' relation to one another and to the Earth. [ 5 2 ] From all of that, [claims the philosopher], it results that the perpetual, eternal rotation is the rea­ son for all temporal events. The movers of the heav­ ens' rotation are the souls of the heavens; for they are alive in a way comparable to our souls in relation to our bodies, but their souls are eternal. So of course the rotation that they necessitate is also eternal. Since the states of the soul are uniform because [the soul] is eter­ nal, the states of the motions are also uniform, that is, they rotate eternally. 7. That is to say, when the aspect of two bodies is 120 degrees, 60 degrees, or 90 degrees between each other, respectively.

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[ 5 3 ] Thus, [continues the philosopher], it is in­ conceivable that the temporal proceeds from the eter­ nal, except through an intermediate everlasting rotation that is similar to the eternal in one way; for it is perpetually everlasting. In another way, however, [the rotation] is similar to the temporal; for each of its posited parts was temporally created after they were not. So inasmuch as [the rotation] is temporal through its parts and relations, then it is the principle of tem­ poral events, whereas inasmuch as it is everlasting, similar to the states [of the soul], it proceeds from an eternal soul. So, if there are temporal events in the world, there is inevitably rotation, but there are tem­ poral events in the world, and so everlasting rotation is established. [ 54] (In response] we say that this lengthy [discourse] does not improve your situation; for the rotation that is the basis [of all temporal eventsJ is either temporal or eternal. If it is eternal , then how does it become a principle for the fi rst temporal events? If it is tempo­ ral, then it depends on another temporal event, and there will be an (infinite] causal chain. You maintain that in one respect it is similar to the eternal and in another respect it is similar to the temporal; for it is permanent [and] renewed, that is, it is permanently re­ newed and renewed permanently. But we ask, "Is it a principle of temporal events insofar as it is permanent or insofar as it is renewed?" If it is insofar as it is per­ manent, then how is it that something [that exists] at some moments and not others proceeds from some­ thing permanent that has similar states? If it is insofar as it is renewed, then what is the cause of its renewal in itself' It would need another cause, and there would be an [infinite] causal chain. This was [ our] goal, to establish the necessity [of a temporal event's proceed­ ing from an eternal ] .

24. The Incoherence of the Philosophers, Concernin g the Natural Sciences First Question The connection between what is customarily believed to be a cause and what is believed to be an effect is not necessary, according to our opinion; but each of the two [namely, cause and effect] is independent of the other. 1 The affirmation of one does not imply the af­ firmation of the other, nor does the denial of one im­ ply the denial of the other; the existence of one does not necessitate the existence of the other, nor does the non-existence of one necessitate the non-existence of the other. [Take] for example: quenching thirst and drinking, satisfying hunger and eating, burning and contact with fire, light and sunrise, death and decapi­ tation, healing and drinking medicine, relaxing the bowels and taking a purgative and so forth for all the things which are observed to be connected in medi­ cine, astronomy, the arts, and the crafts - indeed the connection of these occurs because the decree of God preceded their being created in this sequence, not be-­ _ cause the existence [of this connection] is necessary m itself, not receptive of separation . On the contrary, it is within the power [of God] to create satisfying hunger without eating, to create death without decapitation, to let life continue even if decapitation occurs, and so forth for all connections. The philosophers, however, deny the possibility of this and affirm its impossibility. Since the investigation of these limitless cases would take too long, let us consider one example, namely, the burning of cotton when it is in contact with fire. We consider it possible that there should be contact between the two without burning and we [also] con­ sider it possible that cotton should be turned into ashes without [having] contact with fire. [The philosophers] deny the possibility of this. Translated for this volume by Arthur Hyman from al­ Ghazali, Tahiifot al-Faliisifat, ed. \1. Bouyges, S.J. (Bey­ routh: lmprimerie Catholique, 1927). I. Literally, this is not that and that not this.

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The discussion of this question has three points: The fzrst point: The opponent asserts that the act­ ing cause of burning is fire exclusively and that fire acts by nature not by choice, so that fire, when brought in contact with a subject receptive of it, cannot refrain from acting according to its nature. This is what we deny. On the contrary, we say that it is God Who, either through the intermediation of angels or without any intermediation, is the acting cause of burning by creating blackness in the cotton, dividing it into its parts, making it burn, or [turning it into] ashes. Fire, however, is inanimate and does not have any action. What is the proof [of the opponent] that fire is the acting cause? He has no other proof except the obser­ vation that burning occurs when there is contact with fire. However, observation only proves that one occurs together with the other, but it does not prove that one occurs through [the agency on the other. Indeed, there is no other cause but [God ] . There is no disagreement [between us and the philosophers1 concerning the fact] that the introduction of the spirit and of the ap­ prehensive and motive faculties into the semen of an­ imals does not proceed from the natures contained [in the qualities on heat, cold, moisture, and dryness, or that the father is not the acting cause of his son by de-­ positing the semen into the womb, or that the father

2. Al-Ghazali now invokes an argument of the philoso­ phers in order to undermine their position. The philoso­ phers, whose primary spokesman, for al-Ghazali, is Ibn S!na, had maintained that the causal interaction of inan­ imate bodies does not require extraneous acting causes but that the introduction of the various faculties into an­ imals does. These extraneous causes, according to the philosophers, are the incorporeal intelligences whom they identified with the angels of Scripture. The lowest of these intelligences, the Agent Intellect, was, according to Ibn Sina, the "Giver of Forms." The incorporeal in­ telligences ultimately depend on God.

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, Concerning the :\atural Sciences is not the acting cause of the son's life, sight, hearing and any of the other faculties which the son has. While it is well known that [these faculties] exist in the father, we do not say that they exist in the son through [the agency] of the father. On the contrary, their exis­ tence comes from the First One [God] either without any intermediation or through the intermediation of the angels that are appointed over the things that come to be. This is the argument that the philosophers who speak about the Artisan [God] are unable to answer; and our discussiOn is with them. It is clear then that the existence [of one thing] together with another does not prove that the existence [of the second] is through [the agency of the first] . We shall make this clear by means of an example. [Let us suppose that] there is a blind man whose eyes are covered by a membrane and who has never heard from anyone about the difference between night and day. If now the membrane is removed from his eyes while it is day, his eyelids are open, and he sees colors, he will think that the opening of his sight is the acting cause of the perception of the forms of colors that has occurred to his eyes. And he will think [further] that as long as his sight is sound and open, the obstruction removed, and the colored object present, it will un­ doubtedly be necessary that he sees. He will not un­ derstand that he cannot see [under these conditions] until the sun sets and the air is dark. Then he will know that the light of the sun is the cause of the im­ pression of colors on h is sight. On what evidence does [our J opponent believe that there exist causes in the principles of existence' from which there proceed these events when there is contact between them, un­ less it is that [these events j are constant, not non-exis­ tent, and that they are not bodies in motion that disappear? If [these events] would cease to exist or dis­ appear, we would apprehend that they are separable and we would understand that there is a cause beyond our observation. There is no exception to this accord­ ing to the arguments based on the principles [of the philosophers j .4 3. In the principles of natural substances. 4. By holding that the incorporeal intelligences, partic­ ularly the Giver of Forms, are acting causes in the sub-

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For this reason the true philosophers agreed that these accidents and things which come to be, that oc­ cur when there is contact between bodies and, in gen­ eral, when there is a change in their relation, proceed from the Giver of Forms, who is an angel or angels, so that they say that the impression of the forms of colors on the eye occurs through the Giver of Forms, and that sunrise, a sound pupil, and the colored body are only preparatory and preliminary for the subject's reception of these forms. They applied this [explanation] to everything that comes to be. Through this argument is refuted the claim of those who assert that fire is the acting cause of burning, bread the acting cause of sat­ isfYing hunger, medicine the acting cause of health, and so forth for other causes. The second point: There is [an opponent] who ad­ mits that the things that come to be proceed from the principles of the things that come to be, ; but that the predisposition [in the affected subject] for receiving the forms occurs through causes that are observed and present. They hold, however, that the principles from which proceed the things that come to be act by ne­ cessity and nature, not by way of deliberation and choice, as, for example, the procession of light from the sun. The subjects [which receive these forms J dif­ fer in respect to receptivity in accordance with the dif­ ferences in their predispositions. [ For example,] a polished body receives the rays of the sun and reflects them, so that another place is illumined by them, while an opaque body does not receive them [in such a manner). Air does not prevent the penetration of sunlight, while a stone does. Some things become soft through the sun, while others become hard. Some things, like the fuller's garment, become white, others, like the fuller's face, become black. [In all these cases] the principle is one, but the effects are different be­ cause of a difference in the subject's predispositions.

lunar world, the philosophers are forced to admit that in the case of sublunar substances there is no necessary con­ nection between cause and effect. While the drift of the passage is clear, its final section is somewhat obscure. 5. That is, the incorporeal intelligences, particularly the Giver of Forms. The Abrahamic miracle mentioned fur­ ther on is recorded in the Qur'an.

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Thus there is no obstacle or incapacity in the princi­ ples of existence with respect to that which proceeds from them, but any shortcoming comes from the re-­ cipient subjects. If this is the case, and we posit fire and its properties and we [also J posit two similar pieces of cotton that are in contact with the fire in the same way, how can we conceive that one will bum, while the other will not? There is no choice [in this situation] . From this perspective [the proponents o f this view] deny that Abraham was thrown into the fire without being burned, while the fire remained fire. They hold that this [occurrence J would only be possible if heat would be denied of fire, in which case fire would cease being fire, or through a change in the essence of Abra­ ham [through which] his body would be changed into stone or into something on which fire has no effect. :\'either of these alternatives is possible. The answer to this opinion is twofold: First: we say that we do not admit that [these] prin­ ciples6 do not act by choice, nor that God does not act by will. We have already refuted their claim concern­ ing this in the question on the creation of the world.7 If it is affirmed that the acting cause [God] creates burning through His will, when cotton and fire are in contact, then it is possible, according to reason, that He may not create burning when contact [between cotton and fire] exists. [The opponent] could reply: this opinion leads to the perpetration of abominable impossibilities. For if you deny the necessary connection between effects and causes and attribute [the effects] to the will of their Creator, and [maintain J that the will does not have a particular well-defined pattern, but that it is possible that it may vary and change, each one of us would have to consider it possible that there might be in his presence wild beasts, raging fires, high mountains, armed enemies, which he will not see, since God did not create sight in him. And someone who has left a book in his house might find, upon returning home, that [the book] has been changed into a handsome, in­ telligent, and efficient young slave or into an animal. Or if he left a young slave at home, he might find that

6. The principles of existence. 7. See selection 23.

he was changed into a dog, or having left ashes he might find them changed into musk, or a stone changed into gold, or gold into a stone. If he were asked about any of these things, he could properly answer: I do not know what is now in my house. The only thing I know is that I left a book in my house, but perhaps by now it has turned into a horse which dirties my l ibrary with its urine and excrement, and I have left in my house a jar of water which, perhaps, has changed into an apple tree. For God has power over everything. It is not nec­ essary that a horse should be created from semen, nor is it necessary that a tree should be created from a seed. On the contrary, it is not necessary that it should be created from anything. Perhaps [God] created things which never existed before. Indeed, if someone sees a man whom he has never seen until now and he is asked: "has this man been born?" he might hesitate and answer: "perhaps he was one of the fruits in the market which was changed into a man and he is that man . God has the power over everything that is possi­ ble and [the occurrence o� this is possible. There is no escape from hesitation concerning this." One can go to any length in conceiving [objections] of this kind, but this much [discussion] is sufficient. In answer to this argument we say: if it could be shown that the existence of the possible [ implies] that knowledge of its non-existence cannot be created for man, these absurdities will necessarily follow. But we are not in doubt about the cases that you have de­ scribed. Indeed, God has created within us knowl­ edge that he will not bring about everything that is possible, and we do not assert that everything possible will necessarily come to be. On the contrary, [we have asserted that] they are possible [whereby we mean that] they may happen or they may not happen. But if some­ thing happens habitually time after time, its [habit­ ual] course will be firmly rooted in our minds in accordance with the habitual past occurrence in such a way that it cannot be removed from [the mind]. How­ ever, it is possible that a certain prophet may know, in the manner mentioned by [the philosophers ] ,8 that

8. Al-Ghazall reports in the section preceding this selec­ tion that the philosophers admit that foreknowledge of the future is possible.

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, Concerning the �atural Sciences someone will not return from h i s journey tomorrow. Even though his return is possible, [the prophet] knows that this possibility will not be realized. Even if you consider an ordinary man and you are aware that he does not know any of these strange things nor can he apprehend the intelligible unless he is taught them, yet it cannot be denied that his soul and esti­ mative faculties have the ability to apprehend what the prophets apprehend, insofar as [the prophets] are aware of the possibility of this event, knowing at the same time that this possibility will not be realized. If God interrupts the habitual occurrence by producing [this unusual event] , then at the time when the ha­ bitual occurrence is interrupted, He removes the knowledge [of the habitual occurrence] from [their] hearts and He does not create it. :\othing prevents us from affirming that, while something is possible for God's power, He knows through H is eternal knowl­ edge that He will not do it, even though it is possible at a certain time, and that He will create for us the knowledge that He will not do it at that time. And the statement of the philosophers is nothing but pure abomination. The second answer (to the objection of the oppo­ nents] in which there is found an escape from the abominations [of the philosophers ] : We admit that fire is created [by Cod] in such a manner that it will burn two similar pieces of cotton brought in contact with it, and [fire] does not differentiate between them if they are similar in every respect. Yet in spite of this, we con­ sider it possible that a prophet is thrown into fire, yet is not burned, either because the property of fire is al­ tered or because the property of the prophet is altered. (We explain this by affirming] that there comes to be from Cod or the angels a property in the fire which limits the heat of the fire to its own body, so that it will not pass over [to the body of the prophet]. Heat re­ mains with the fire and fire retains its own form and true nature, yet its heat and effect do not pass over [to something else] . Or there comes to be in the body of the person [the prophet] , a property which, while not keeping the body from being flesh and bone, keeps it from the effect of fire. [ For example,] we see that someone covers himself with talc, sits down in a flam­ ing oven, yet is not affected by it. Whoever has not ob­ served this will deny it. The denial of the opponent

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that it is in [Cod's] power to confer a certain property upon fire or upon [a person's] body which prevents burning, is like the denial of someone who has not ob­ served talc and its effect. In Cod's power there are strange and wondrous things, not all of which we have observed. How is it proper that we should deny their possibility or affirm their impossibility? Similarly, the resurrection of the dead and the changing of a staff into a serpent9 are possible in this way [as can be seen from the fact] that matter can re­ ceive every form, 10 so that earth and the other elements can be changed into a plant, a plant, when eaten by an animal, is changed into blood, blood is changed into semen; and semen, when ejaculated in the womb, creates an animal. This, according to the order of habitual occurrences, takes place over a long period of time. But why does [our] opponent deny that it is within Cod's power that matter should pass through these stages in a period of time shorter than usual? And if a shorter period of time is allowed, there is nothing that keeps it from being the shortest. As a result these powers are speeded up in their actions and through this the miracle of the prophet comes to be. [Suppose] someone were to ask: does [the miracle] proceed from the soul ofthe prophet or from some other principles through the instigation of the prophet? 1 1 We answer: when you admit that the downfall of rain, thunder, and earthquake occur through the power of the soul of the prophet, does this [miracle] occur through the soul of the prophet or through some other principle? What we say concerning our example is like

9. Th is is an allusion to \1oses' miracle, which is re­ ported in the Qur'an. 1 0. Literally, every thi ng. I I . In the section preceding this selection, al-Ghazali re­ ported that the philosophers accepted limited miracles. From the observation that the human soul can produce bodily effects, such as salivation when one thinks of some­ thing sweet, they go on to argue that the soul of the prophet can produce effects on other corporeal mbstances as well. For example, through the power of his soul he can pro­ duce rain, thunder, and earthquakes. However, these mir­ acles are limited to ordinary natural occurrences, not to such things as turning a staff into a serpent.

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Al-Ghazdlf, c. l 055-1 1 1 1

what you say concerning yours . 1 2 According to us as well as according to you, it is best to attribute this to God, either without intermediation or with the inter­ mediation of angels. When the time appropriate for the occurrence of the miracle has arrived, the mind of the prophet turns toward it. The order of the good be­ comes clear through its appearance, [and the miracle occurs] to preserve the order of the Law. [This need] determines its existence. In itself [the miracle] is pos­ sible, but [God's] generosity is the principle through which it comes to be. However, [the miracle] only pro­ ceeds from God when necessity determines its exis­ tence and good appears in it. And the good only appears in it when the prophet needs it to establish his prophetic office, in order to promulgate the good . 1 3 All this i s in agreement with what [the philoso­ phers J have said and they must necessarily admit it, inasmuch as they have opened the gate by allowing the prophet a special property which distinguishes him from the customary run of people. 14 The mind cannot grasp the extent of the special property's possi­ bility. There is no need to consider it fulse if it rests on [ reliable J tradition and its truth is verified by the Law. In general, only the semen receives the form of the an­ imal, and the animal faculties come upon it from the angels, who, according to the opinion [of the philoso­ phersJ , are the principles of existing things; man is cre­ ated only from the semen of a man and a horse only from the semen of a horse, inasmuch as its coming to be from a horse determines the preponderance of the form of a horse over other forms and it receives the pre­ ponderant form only in this way. Likewise barley does 1 2 . Literally, what we say concerning this is like what you say concerning that. 1 3. The points of this rather involuted passage are: God produces miracles through His generosity; miracles oc­ cur only when they are necessary; miracles occur to au­ thenticate the prophet and confirm the Law.

1 4. The following argument is designed to show that since the philosophers admit that the prophet can pro­ duce "ordinary" miracles, such as rainfall, thunder, and ea rth quakes , they are obligated to admit that h e can also produce such "extraordinary" miracles as the staffs turn­ ing into a snake.

not come from wheat, nor an apple from the seed of a pear. We further see kinds of animals, such as worms , which are generated from dust, and these do not gen­ erate other animals at all. Then there are other ani­ mals, such as the mouse, the snake, and the scorpion, which are both not generated and generated from other animals, since they can (also] be generated from dust. The predispositions for receiving forms vary through causes hidden from us, and it is not within the power of flesh to know them. Since, according to the opinion [of the philosophers], these forms do not pro­ ceed from the angels through desire and through con­ jecture, 1 ; but they proceed upon every subject only insofar as there exists a receptivity [for these forms] through the existence of a predisposition in this sub­ ject. The predispositions differ, and their principles, according to [the opinion of the philosophers] , are the configurations of the stars, and the different relations that the upper [celestial] bodies have in their motions. Through this theory the possibility is opened that there may be strange and wondrous things in the prin­ ciples of these predispositions, so that those who mas­ ter talismans can use their knowledge of particular properties of mineral substances and their knowledge of the stars to combine celestial powers with particu­ lar properties of mineral substances. 16 And they select the figures of these earthly things and by seeking par­ ticular celestial powers for them, they can bring about strange things in the world. Sometimes they drive away snakes and scorpions from the city and [some­ times] bugs, and they bring about other things known to them through the science of the talisman. Since the principles of these predispositions are not firm and we cannot discover their quantity and we have no way of knowing their limit, how can we know that 1 5 . The forms proceed by necessity, but variations in their effects are determined by a difference in the predis­ positions of the subjects that receive them.

1 6. In the section preceding this selection, al-Ghazalf lists the talismanic art as one of the subsidiary natural sci­ ences. He defines it as "the art of combining celestial powers with the powers of some earthly bodies to produce through this combination a power which can effect un­ usual things in the earthly [sublunar] world."

The Incoherence of the Philosophers, Concerning the :\atural Sciences it is impossible that some bodies should have predis­ positions, such that these bodies can pass through the phases of the transformation in a shorter time, as a re-­ sult of which such a body would be disposed to recei>e a form, for the reception of which it was not predis­ posed before? This is considered a miracle. The denial of this only betrays a lack of understanding and an un­ familiarity with the upper [celestial] beings and an unawareness of the secrets of God in the created world and in nature. He who has studied the wonders of the sciences will not in any way consider it impossible for the power of God to bring about any of the things which are related concerning prophetic miracles. If1 7 [an opponent] were to say: we agree with you that everything possible is within the power of God and you agree [with us] that everything impossible is not within His power. [We further agree] that there are some things that are known to be impossible, some things that are known to be possible, and some things concerning which the intellect is undecided, affirm­ ing neither their impossibility nor their possibility. What, according to [your opinion] , is the definition of the impossible? If it is the simultaneous denial and af­ firmation of the same thing, then say of two things that one is independent of the other, 1 8 and that the exis­ tence of one does not require the existence of the other. And say [further] that God has the power to cre-­ ate will without knowledge of that which is willed and that He can create knowledge without life. [God also] has the power to move the hand of a dead man, make him sit, write volumes with his hand, engage in the sci­ ences, while his eyes are open and his sight is directed toward what is in front of him, even though he does not see, is not alive, does not ha\·e any power. [The dead man writes] , because God created these ordered actions when he moved his hand; and the motion comes from God. By regarding this as possible the dis­ tinction between a voluntary motion and trembling [an involuntary motion] is nullified, and a prudent act will not indicate the knowledge and power of the act­ ing cause. It would be proper to affirm that God has 1 7. The section does not have any superscription, but it contains a discussion of the third point (see p. 278). 18. See note I .

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the power to change genera, to change a substance into an accident, to change knowledge into power, blackness into whiteness, and sound into smell; just as He has the power to change a mineral into an animal, a stone into gold. From [your opinion] there would necessarily follow impossibilities without limit. The answer: :\'o one [not even God] has power over the impossible. 1 9 The impossible is: The simul­ taneous affirmation and denial of something; or the si­ multaneous affirmation of the particular and the denial of the universal; or the simultaneous affirmation of two things and the denial of one of them. 20 Whatever does not fall under these [three cases] is not impossi­ ble, and what is not impossible, can be done. The co­ existence of blackness and whiteness is impossible, since from the affirmation that the form of blackness exists in the subject, we understand the denial that the form of whiteness exists in the same subject and the existence of blackness. If the denial of whiteness is un­ derstood from the affirmation of blackness, then the simultaneous affirmation and denial of whiteness is impossible. It is [also] impossible that a certain person should be in two places [at the same time], since we understand from his being in the house that he can­ not be outside the house; it is impossible that he should be simultaneously outside the house and in the house, since [his being in the house] is understood from the denial that he is outside the house. Likewise, we understand by will the seeking of something known. :\ow if seeking is supposed, but not knowledge, there cannot be will; for this supposition would contain the denial of what we have understood [by will] . Further, it is impossible that knowledge be created in a min­ eral, since we understand by mineral that which does not apprehend. If apprehension were created in it, it would be impossible to call it a mineral in the sense in which we understand [ this term ] ; but if [ the min­ eral] would not apprehend, it would be impossible to call the newly created property knowledge, inasmuch as its subject does not apprehend anything through it. 1 9. :\o one can do what is impossible. 20. The three types of impossibilities are: ( I ) X is Y, X is not Y; (2) some X is Y, no X is Y; (3) X is both Y and Z, X is not Y (or Z).

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Al-Ghazalz, c. 1 055-l l l l

This is the reason [why the creation of knowledge in minerals J is impossible. Some of the .\1utakallimun maintain that God has the power to change genera. We reply that it is unintelligible that something be changed into something else. If, for example, blackness is changed into power, blackness would remain or not remain. !fit ceases to exist [that is, if it does not remain], it would not be changed, but it would not exist any more, and something else would exist. If it would exist together with power, it would not be changed, but some other property would be joined to it. If blackness would remain and power would not exist, then [blackness J has not changed [at all ], but it remains as it is. But if we say that blood is changed into semen, we mean thereby that one and the same matter divested itself of one form and has taken on another form. As a result, one form ceases to exist while another form comes to be; but the matter remains the same for the two forms that succeed each other in it. When we say that water, when heated, is changed into air, we mean thereby that the matter which had received the form ofwater divests itself of this form and has received another form; the matter remains common, but the property [form J has been altered. The case is similar, when we say that the staff is changed into a serpent and dust into an animal. [By contrast,] there is no common matter for accident and substance, nor for blackness and power, nor is there a common matter for other genera. For this reason it is impossible that they should be changed into one another.

As for God's moving the hand of the dead man and raising him up in the form of a living [man] who sits, writes in such a way that through the motion of his hand an ordered script comes to be, this is not i mpos­ sible in itself as long as we ascribe these events to the will of someone who acts by choice; they are only de­ nied because the habitual course [of events] is denied by its rejection. But your assertion that our explana­ tion will lead to the denial that a prudential act indi­ cates the wisdom of the agent is incorrect, since in this case God is the acting cause, and He is prudent as well as the acting cause. To your objection that there would not remain any distinction between trembling [ , an in­ voluntary motion,] and a voluntary motion, we reply that we apprehend this distinction through ourselves, since we observe through ourselves a distinction be­ tween these two states and we affirm that the distinc­ tion between them comes to be through power. We know that one of these two possibles [namely, trem­ bling and voluntary motion] occurs in one state, the other in another state, that is, in one state the move­ ment is produced with power, in another state without power. �ow, when we observe someone else and we see many ordered motions, we attain knowledge of the power behind them. God creates these [kinds] of knowledge by means of the habitual course [of events], through which becomes known the existence of one class of possibles. However, the impossibility of the second class is not proved thereby, as has been shown previously.

Ibn Rushd (Averroes) , 1 1 26- 1 1 98

Ibn Rushd marked the climax of \tt u slim Aristotelian­ ism and, at the same time, its virtual end. Historic cir­ cumstances deprived him of followers among his own people, but through translations of his works into Latin and Hebrew he found attentive students as well as faithful disciples among Christians and Jews. His incisive commentaries on most of Aristotle's works earned him the title "The Commentator," and his par­ ticular kind of Aristotelianism became a well-defined strand in the fabric of later medieval thought. First and foremost Ibn Rushd was a commentator on Aristotle's works. As such he considered it his primary task to cleanse Aristotle's teachings of the im­ purities that had resulted from the erroneous inter­ pretation of earlier commentators. H is polemic was directed in particular against Ibn Slna who, so he thought, had capitulated to theological interests on certain crucial points. Then again, there appeared to be lacunae in Aristotle's works. Ibn Rushd had no doubts that the missing portions had been discussed by Aristotle in works no longer extant, but in his own days what was missing had to be supplied by judicious in­ terpretation. Still further, the dialectical theologians had dealt with philosophical issues in faulty ways and their mistakes had to be corrected. And finally, al­ Ghazall (see page 26;) had launched a grand attack on Aristotelianism as a whole, and this attack had to be repulsed. Ibn Rushd's position is perhaps best characterized by his critique of a certain Avicennian point. Analyz­ ing substances existing within the world, Ibn Sfna had distinguished between their essence and existence, af­ firming at the same time that essence is ontologically prior to existence and that existence is something

added to essence (see page 239). Rejecting this Avi­ cennian distinction, Ibn Rushd held that individual substances exist primarily and, though the mind can distinguish between essence and existence in them, ontologically speaking, the two are one. Thus, while for Ibn Sfna essences were primary, for Ibn Rushd pri­ macy belonged to individual substances. In his physical teachings Ibn Rushd accepted the Aristotelian picture of the universe with its distinction between a sublunar and translunar world. The sub­ lunar world is subject to generation and corruption, and substances within it are ultimately reducible to the four elements. The four elements, in tum, are com­ posed of first matter and a substantial or elemental form. The translunar world, on the other hand, is eter­ nal, and it consists of celestial spheres, each of which is composed of a celestial body and an immaterial mover. Yet upon this general scheme Ibn Rushd im­ posed modifications of his own. An example is pro­ vided by his doctrine of the corporeal form. To bridge the gap between Aristotle's prime matter (which is a rather enigmatic notion) and the elemental form, in­ terpreters had posited a corporeal form. This form was common to all bodies and, according to some, it was related in some way to the property of dimensionality. Ibn Sin a had defined the corporeal form as a form hav­ ing a predisposition for receiving the three dimen­ sions, insisting, however, that this form must differ from three-dimensionality, since form must be in the category of substance, while dimensionality must be in the category of quantity. Ibn Rushd accepted the al­ ternative rejected by Ibn Sina, defining the corporeal form as being identical with indeterminate three­ dimensionality. Similarly, Ibn Rushd differed from 285

286

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Ibn Srna in his description of the celestial movers. Invoking an analogy between man and the celestial spheres, both philosophers agreed that the celestial movers consist of soul and intellect. But whereas for Ibn Srna the celestial soul inhered within the celes­ tial body while the celestial intelligence existed in sep­ aration &om it, for Ibn Rushd soul and intelligence were but two aspects of the same immaterial celestial mover. As in physics so in metaphysics, Ibn Rushd offered interpretations of his own. Ibn Srna had maintained that metaphysics not only investigates whatever can be known about God but also demonstrates that He ex­ ists. In support of this position he had formulated his famous proof of the existence of God, known as the proof &om necessity and contingency (see page 240). Taking issue with Ibn Srna, Ibn Rushd maintained that physics establishes the existence of the subject matter of metaphysics and that, moreover, Ibn Srna's proof is invalid. Ibn Srna's proof, he argued, requires that there exist beings possible through themselves and necessary through another; and it can be shown that such beings do not exist. Hence, for Ibn Rushd, only physical proofs, that is those which establish the existence of a prime mover, are valid for demonstrat­ ing that God exists. In describing God and His relation to the world Ibn Rushd turned from the neoplatonic One to Aristotle's divine thought thinking itself. In thinking himself, God also thinks things and events within the world, and this is what is meant by 'providence.' There is ev­ idence that, according to Ibn Rushd, God thinks the things within the world as particulars. But God's knowledge, as he points out, is completely different from that of man. Ibn Rushd similarly turns from neo­ platonic teachings in his account of creation. For :\eo­ platonists and their �uslim followers the major issue was to explain how a multiple world could come to be from an ultimate principle that was unique and sim­ ple. The world, they held, came into being through successive emanations such that each principle em­ anated from one above it in the scale of being. The problem of the one principle and its many effects held little interest for Ibn Rushd and hence he rejected the doctrine of emanation. Creation, for him, meant the

causal structure of the world, not its emanation from a first principle. If things within the world are said to come from a first principle at all, they all must come from that principle without the aid of intermediary be-. ings. To illustrate this point Ibn Rushd compares the world to an army that is directed by a leader. With the rejection of emanation, Ibn Rushd also denied Ibn Srna's Giver of Forms, which is the Agent Intellect in­ sofar as it provides forms for sublunar beings. Creation does not take place in time. His doctrine of the intellect became one of those teachings for which Ibn Rushd was best known. Like earlier �uslims, he tried to give precision to the van­ ous intellects of which Aristotle had spoken in the De anima or that the commentators had found implied in Aristotle's words. Ibn Rushd agreed with other �us­ lims in identifying the Agent Intellect, required as an efficient cause for thinking, with the lowest of the in­ telligences, namely, that which governs the sublunar sphere (see page 220). But in describing the material intellect he formulated a doctrine of his own. Review­ ing earlier opinions, he rejected that of Alexander of Aphrodisias, who had identified this intellect with a bodily predisposition, as well as that of Themistius and others, who had identified it with an individual spiritual substance. Ibn Rushd held that the material intellect, like any intellectual principle, must be im­ material and universal, that is, it must be common to all men. This is Ibn Rushd's much-to-be-debated doc­ trine of the unity of the intellect. It follows from Ibn Rushd's description that when the material intellect becomes actualized, it remains one for all men and that immortality, therefore, is general, not particular. Knowledge becomes particular through phantasms that accompany it in the imagination of everyone who knows. Ibn Rushd identified Aristotle's "passive intel­ lect'' with the imagination. In addition to commenting on Aristotle, Ibn Rushd also wrote on politics and religion, following in the footsteps of ai-Farabr and other �uslim Aristotelians. Here his orientation was Platonic. With other �uslim Aristotelians, he accepted Plato's notion of an ideal state to which he (as they) added that it comes into being through a prophet-legislator. The state is com­ posed of different classes, and the prophetic law must

Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 126-- 1 1 98 speak to aiL Ibn Rushd undertook to give a more specific description of the classes within the state. In­ voking Aristotelian logical principles, he divided the citizens into the rulers, who can follow demo!l­ strations, the masses, who are persuaded by rhetorical arguments, and, between them, the dialectical the­ ologians, who can understand dialectical discussions (see page

292 ) . But whereas ai-Farabi advocated a re­

finement of popular religious beliefs, Ibn Rushd in­ sisted that each of the three classes must be taught on

287

when Ibn Tufayl retired, he took his place as court physician to Abu Ya'qub Yusuf. When in

1 1 84 the

ruler died and his son Abu YusufYa 'qub took his place, Ibn Rushd retained his post. In

1 1 95, for reasons

which are not too clear, Ibn Rushd fell in disgrace and all his works except those of a purely scientific nature were burned. Having been exiled to Lucenna (near Cordova) for a short time, he was restored to grace. He lived in retirement in :\1arrakesh until his death in

1 1 98.

its own level. General philosophical enlightenment,

The majority of lbn Rushd's works were commen­

according to him, is proscribed. From this exposition

taries on Aristotle's writings. These commentaries ap­

it follows that truth appears in three forms- demon­

peared in three forms - epitomes, intermediate com­

strative, dialectical, rhetorical - the last two being pri­

mentaries, and long commentaries. Altogether he

marily the province of religion. Whether Ibn Rushd finally saw all three forms of truth or only the first as

wrote thirty-eight commentaries of the various kinds.

productive of ultimate human happiness has been de­

original Arabic, thirty-six in Hebrew translations, and

bated by i nterpreters.

thirty-four in Latin translations dating from various

Of these only twenty-eight are still extant in the

Abu Walrd :\1uhammad ibn Abmad ibn Rushd was

times. Besides a number of opuscula dealing with a va­

born in I I 26 in Cordova, son of a distinguished fam­ ily of jurists . Though it is not known who his teachers

riety of philosophical issues, among them De sub­ stantia orbis, he wrote a refutation of ai..Chazaii, The

1 1 5 3 he was in :\1arrakesh where

Incoherence o{'The Incoherence" (fahafut al-Taha{ut). 265 ) had written a work entitled The Incoherence of the Philosophers (fahafut al-Falasifah)

were, it is evident from his works that he received thor­ ough training in Islamic law as well as in the philo­ sophical sciences. In

he was in contact with the first Almohad ruler 'Abd al­

Al-Ghazaii (see p.

in which he attacked the opinions of the :\1uslim Aris­

Mu'min, perhaps in connection with a school that the

totelians, in particular those of Ibn Sina. Ibn Rushd's

ruler had founded at that time. Of the next period

Tahafut was his reply. In addition there must be men­ tioned his work on medicine Kullryat (Colliget), his Commentary on Plato's 'Republic,' and his treatises on religion, chief among them The Decisive Treatise De­ termining the Nature of the Connection between Reli­ gion and Philosophy (Fa�/ al-Maqal).

nothing is known but that he composed a book on medicine. In 1 1 68 he was in :\1arrakesh once again,

and at this time Ibn Tufayl, vizier and court physician,

introduced him to Abu Ya'qub Yusuf, the son who had

succeeded 'Abd al-:\1u'min as ruler. According to one account, the ruler, at a meeting, asked Ibn Rushd what

It should be added that the Latin world knew Ibn

the Aristotelians think about the eternity of the world.

Rushd primarily as interpreter of Aristotle, and his

Afraid, Ibn Rushd claimed to be not conversant with

works on religion were either not known at all or were

their teachings. But when the ruler, in conversation

known very late. Small wonder then that Ibn Rushd,

with Ibn Tufayl, showed that he was acquainted with

for the Latin world, was a naturalistic Aristotelian who

philosophy and sympathetic to it, Ibn Rushd no longer

advocated the doctrines of the eternity of the world,

hesitated to speak. Somewhat later Ibn Tufayl trans­ mitted to Ibn Rushd the ruler's invitation to comment on Aristotle's works, which he had found rather ob­ scure. In

1 1 69, Ibn Rushd was appointed judge i n

absence of individual providence, and collective im­ mortality - all doctrines contradictory to principles of Christian faith. It can readily be seen why Christian philosophers saw in him the father of the theory of the

Seville, and in that year h i s first commentary on Aris­

double truth, according to which philosophy and reli­

1 1 7 1 he returned to Cordova, where he probably also filled the office of judge. In 1 1 82,

never subscribed to this view.

totle appeared. In

gion can stand in contradiction, although, in fact, he

288

Islamic Philosophy

The first selection is The Decisive Treatise. It should be noted that this work is written in the form of a legal responsum designed to show that Qur'anic law re­ quires the study of philosophy for those who are fit for it. It should be added that Abu :r-.;a�r is al-Farabi and Abu I:Iamid is al-GhazalL For a description of the Mu'tazilites and the Ash'arites the reader is referred

to the introduction to the Islamic section. The trans­ lator divided the work into chapters and the super­ scriptions are his. The remaining selections are taken from the Long Commentary on 'The Soul" and from The Incoherence of 'The Incoherence." They concern Ibn Rushd's theory of the intellect, contrasting the ma­ terial intellect with the Active Intellect.

2 5 . The Decisive Treatise What Is the Attitude of the Law to Philosophy? Tbus spoke the lawyer, imam, judge, and unique scholar, Abu! Walfd \1uhammad ibn Abmad ibn Rushd: [ I ] Praise be to God with all due praise, and a for \1ul)ammad H is chosen servant and apos­ rayer p tle. The purpose of this treatise is to examine, from the standpoint of the study of the Law, whether the study of philosophy and logic is allowed by the Law, or pro­ hibited, or commanded- either by way of recom­ mendation or as obligatory. 1 . The Law \lakes Philosophic Studies Obligatory If teleological study of the world is philosophy, and if the Law commands such a study, then the Law com­ mands philosophy. [2] We say: If the activity of "philosophy" is noth­ ing more than study of existing beings and reflection on them as indications of the Artisan, that is, inasmuch as they are products of art (for beings only indicate the Artisan through our knowledge of the art in them, and the more perfect this knowledge is, the more perfect the knowledge of the Artisan becomes), and if the Law has encouraged and urged reflection on beings, then it is clear that what this name signifies is either oblig­ atory or recommended by the Law. The Law commands such a studv. [ 3 ] That the Law summons to refl ection on beings, and the pursuit of knowledge about them, by the in­ tellect is clear from several verses of the Book of God Blessed and Exalted, such as the saying of the Exalted : From Averroes on the Harmony of Religion and Philoso­ phy, tr. G. F. Hourani, (London: Luzac and Co., Ltd., 1961). Reprinted by permission of the Gibb Memorial Trust. Footnotes by Jon McGinnis and David C. Reis­ man, reprinted from Classical Arabic Philosophy, tr. Jon McGinnis and David C. Reisman ( Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2007). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

"Reflect, you {who} have vision" (Qur'an, 59:2): this is textual authority for the obligation to use intellec­ tual reasoning or a combination of intellectual and le­ gal reasoning (7: 1 85). Another example is H is saying, " Have they not studied the kingdom of the heavens and the Earth, and whatever things God has created?": this is a text urging the study of the totality of beings. Again, God the Exalted has taught that one of those whom He singularly honored by his knowledge was Abraham, peace on him, for the Exalted said (6:75), "So we made Abraham see the kingdom of the heav­ ens and the Earth, that he might be . . ." [and so on to the end of the verse] . The Exalted also said (88: 1 71 8 ), "Do they not observe the camels, how they have been created, and the sky, how it has been raised up?" and He said ( 3: 1 9 1 ), "and they give thought to the cre­ ation of the heavens and the Earth," and so on in countless other verses. This study must be conducted in the best manner, by demonstrative reasoning. [4] S ince it has now been established that the Law has rendered obligatory the study of beings by the in­ tellect and reflection on them, and since reflection is nothing more than inference and drawing out of the unknown from the known, and since this is reasoning or at any rate done by reasoning, therefore we are un­ der an obligation to carry on our study of beings by in­ tellectual reasoning. It is further evident that this manner of study, to which the Law summons and urges, is the most perfect kind of study using the most perfect kind of reasoning; and this is the kind called "demonstration." To master this instrument the religious thinker must make a preliminary study of logic, just as the lawyer must study legal reasoning. This is no more heretical in the one case than in the other. And logic must be learned from the ancient masters, regardless of the fact that they were not \1uslims. [ 5 ] The Law, then, has urged us to have demon­ strative knowledge of God the Exalted and all the beings of His creation. But it is preferable and even necessary for anyone who wants to understand God 289

290

Ibn Rushd (Averroes),

1 1 26-1 1 98

the Exalted and the other beings demonstratively to have first understood the kinds of demonstration and their conditions [of validity], and in what respects demonstrative reasoning differs from dialectical, rhe­ torical, and fallacious reasoning. But this is not possi­ ble unless he has previously learned what reasoning as such is, and how many kinds it has, and which of them are valid and which invalid. This in turn is not possi­ ble unless he has previously learned the parts of rea­ soning, of which it is composed, that is, the premises and their kinds. Therefore, he who believes in the Law, and obeys the command to study beings, ought prior to his study to gain a knowledge of these things, which have the same place in theoretical studies as in­ struments have in practical activities. [6] For just as the lawyer infers from the Divine command to him to acquire knowledge of the legal categories that he is under obligation to know the var­ ious kinds of legal syllogisms, and which are valid and which invalid, in the same way he who would know [God] ought to infer from the command to study beings that he is under obligation to acquire a knowledge of intellectual reasoning and its kinds. In­ deed it is more fitting for him to do so, for if the lawyer infers from the saying of the Exalted, "Reflect, you who have vision," the obligation to acquire a knowledge oflegal reasoning, how much more fitting and proper that he who would know God should in­ fer from it the obligation to acquire a knowledge of intellectual reasoning! [7] It cannot be objected: "This kind of study of in­ tellectual reasoning is a heretical innovation, since it did not exist among the first believers." For the study of legal reasoning and its kinds is also something that has been discovered since the first believers, yet it is not considered to be a heretical innovation. So the ob­ jector should believe the same about the studv of in­ tellectual reasoning. ( For this there is a reason, which it is not the place to mention here.) But most [masters] of this religion support intellectual reasoning, except a small group of gross literalists who can be refuted by [sacred] texts. [8] Since it has now been established that there is an obligation of the Law to study intellectual reasoning and its kinds, just as there is an obligation to study le­ gal reasoning, it is clear that if none of our predecessors

had formerly examined intellectual reasoning and its kinds, we should be obliged to undertake such an ex­ amination from the beginning, and that each succeed­ ing scholar would have to seek help in that task from his predecessor in order that knowledge of the subject might be completed. For it is difficult or impossible for one man to find out by himself and from the beginning all that he needs of that subject, as it is difficult for one man to discover all the knowledge that he needs of the kinds of legal reasoning; indeed this is even truer of knowledge of intellectual reasoning. [9] But if someone other than ourselves has already examined that subject, it is clear that we ought to seek help towards our goal from what has been said by such a predecessor on the subject, regardless of whether this other one shares our religion or not. For when a valid sacrifice is performed with a certain instrument, no account is taken, in judging the validity of the sacri­ fice, of whether the instrument belongs to one who shares our religion or to one who does not, so long as it fulfils the conditions for validity. By "those who do not share our religion," I refer to those ancients who studied these matters before Islam. So if such is the case, and everything that is required in the study of the subject of intellectual syllogisms has already been ex­ amined in the most perfect manner by the ancients, presumably we ought to lay hands on their books in or­ der to study what they said about that subject; and if it is all correct we should accept it from them, while if there is anything incorrect in it, we should draw at­ tention to that. After logic we must proceed to philosophy proper. Here too we have to learn from our predecessors, just as in mathematics and law. Thus, it is wrong to forbid the study of ancient philosophy. Harm from it is accidental, like harm from taking medicine, drink­ ing water, or studying law. [ l 0] When we have finished with this sort of study and acquired the instruments by whose aid we are able to reflect on beings and the indications of art in them (for he who does not understand the art does not un­ derstand the product of art, and he who does not understand the product of art does not understand the Artisan), then we ought to begin the examination of beings in the order and manner we have learned from the art of demonstrative syllogisms.

The Decisive Treatise [ I I ] And again it is clear that in the study of beings s thi aim can be fulfilled by us perfectly only through successive examinations of them by one man after an­ other, the later ones seeking the help of the earlier in that task, on the model of what has happened in the mathematical sciences. For if we suppose that the art of geometry did not exist in this age of ours, and like­ wise the art of astronomy, and a single person wanted to ascertain by himself the sizes of the heavenly bod­ ies, their shapes, and their distances from each other, that would not be possible for him - for example, to know the proportion of the Sun to the Earth or other facts about the sizes of the stars- even though he were the most intelligent of men by nature, unless by a rev­ elation or something resembling revelation. Indeed, if he were told that the Sun is about 1 50 or I 60 times as great as the Earth, he would think this statement mad­ ness on the part of the speaker, although this is a fact that has been demonstrated in astronomy so surely that no one who has mastered that science doubts it. [ 1 2 ] But what calls even more strongly for com­ parison with the art of mathematics in this respect is the art of the principles of law; and the study of law it­ self was completed only over a long period of time. And if someone today wanted to find out by himself all the arguments that have been discovered by the theorists of the legal schools on controversial ques­ tions, about which debate has taken place between them in most countries of Islam (except the West), he would deserve to be ridiculed, because such a task is impossible for him, apart from the fact that the work has been done already. \1oreover, this is a situation that is self-evident not in the scientific arts alone but also in the practical arts; for there is not one of them that a single man can construct by himself. Then how can he do it with the art of arts, philosophy? If this is so, then whenever we find in the works of our predecessors of former nations a theory about beings and a reflection on them conforming to what the conditions of demonstration require, we ought to study what they said about the matter and what they affirmed in their books. And we should accept from them gladly and gratefully whatever in these books accords with the truth, and draw attention to and warn against what does not accord with the truth, at the same time ex­ cusing them .

291

[ I 3 ] From this it is evident that the study of the books of the ancients is obligatory by Law, since their aim and purpose in their books is just the purpose to which the Law has urged us, and that whoever forbids the study of them to anyone who is fit to study them, that is, anyone who unites two qualities, ( I ) natural in­ telligence, and (2) religious integrity and moral virtue, is blocking people from the door by which the Law summons them to knowledge of God, the door of the­ oretical study that leads to the truest knowledge of Him; and such an act is the extreme of ignorance and estrangement from God the Exalted. [ I 4] And if someone errs or stumbles in the study of these books owing to a deficiency in his natural ca­ pacity, or bad organization of his study of them, or be­ ing dominated by his passions, or not finding a teacher to guide him to an understanding of their contents, or a combination of all or more than one of these causes, it does not follow that one should forbid them to any­ one who is qualified to study them. For this manner of harm that arises owing to them is something that is at­ tached to them by accident, not by essence; and when a thing is beneficial by its nahne and essence, it ought not to be shunned because of something harmful con­ tained in it by accident. This was the thought of the Prophet, peace on him, on the occasion when he or­ dered a man to give his brother honey to drink for his diarrhea. and the diarrhea increased after he had given him the honey: When the man complained to him about it, he said, "God spoke the truth; it was your brother's stomach that lied." We can even say that a man who prevents a qualified person from studying books of philosophy, because some of the most vicious people may be thought to have gone astray through their study of them, is like a man who prevents a thirsty person from drinking cool, fresh water until he dies of thirst, because some people have choked to death on it. For death from water by choking is an accidental matter, but death by thirst is essential and necessary. [ 1 5 ] \1oreover, this accidental effect of this art is a thing that may also occur accidentally from the other arts. To how many lawyers has law been a cause oflack of piety and immersion in this world1 Indeed we find most la\Vyers in this state, although their art by its essence calls for nothing but practical virtue. Thus, it is not strange if the same thing that occurs accidentally

292

Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

in the art that calls for practical virtue should occur ac­ cidentally in the art that calls for intellectual virtue. For every Muslim the Law has provided a way to truth suitable to his nature, through demonstrative, di­ alectical, or rhetorical methods. [ 1 6] Since all this is now established, and since we, the Muslim community, hold that this divine religion of ours is true and that it is this religion that incites and summons us to the happiness that consists in the knowledge of God, Mighty and Majestic, and of His creation, that [end] is appointed for every Muslim by the method of assent that his temperament and nature require. For the natures of men are on different levels with respect to [their paths to J assent. One of them comes to assent through demonstration; another comes to assent through dialectical arguments just as firmly as the demonstrative man through demonstration, since his nature does not contain any greater capacity; while another comes to assent through rhetorical arguments, again just as firmly as the demonstrative man through demonstrative arguments. [ 1 7] Thus, since this divine religion of ours has summoned people by these three methods, assent to it has extended to everyone except him who stubbornly denies it with his tongue or him for whom no method of summons to God the Exalted has been appointed in religion owing to his own neglect of such matters. It was for this purpose that the Prophet, peace on him, was sent with a special mission to "the white man and the black man" alike; I mean because his religion em­ braces all the methods of summons to God the Ex­ alted. This is clearly expressed in the saying of God the Exalted ( 1 6: 1 2 ; ) , "Summon to the way of your Lord by wisdom and by good preaching, and debate with them in the most effective manner." 2. Philosophy Conta ins "\'othing Opposed to Islam

Demonstrative truth and scriptural truth cannot con­ flict. [ 1 8] :\ow since this religion is true and summons to the study which leads to knowledge of the Truth, we the Muslim community know definitely that demon­ strative study does not lead to [conclusions] conflict-

ing with what Scripture has given us; for truth does not oppose truth but accords with it and bears witness to it. If the apparent meaning of Scripture conflicts with demonstrative conclusions, it must be interpreted al­ legorically, that is, metaphorically. [ 1 9] This being so, whenever demonstrative study leads to any manner of knowledge about any being, that being is inevitably either unmentioned or men­ tioned in Scripture. If it is unmentioned there is no contradiction, and it is in the same case as an act whose category is unmentioned, so that the lawyer has to infer it by reasoning from Scripture. If Scripture speaks about it, the apparent meaning of the words in­ evitably either accords or conflicts with the conclu­ sions of demonstration about it. If this [apparent meaning] accords, there is no argument. If it conflicts, there is a call for allegorical interpretation of it. The meaning of"allegorical interpretation" is: extension of the significance of an expression from real to meta­ phorical significance, without forsaking therein the standard metaphorical practices of Arabic, such as calling a thing by the name of something resembling it or a cause or consequence or accompaniment of it, or other things such as are enumerated in accounts of the kinds of metaphorical speech. If the lawyer can do this, the religious thinker cer­ tainly can. Indeed these allegorical interpretations al­ ways receive confirmation from the apparent meaning of other passages of Scripture. [20] :\'ow if the lawyer does this in many decisions of religious law, with how much more right is it done by the possessor of demonstrative knowledge ' For the lawyer has at his disposition only reasoning based on opinion, while he who would know [ God] [has at his disposition] reasoning based on certainty. So we affirm definitely that whenever the conclusion of a demon­ stration is in conflict with the apparent meaning of Scripture, that apparent meaning admits of allegorical interpretation according to the rules for such inter­ pretation in Arabic. This proposition is questioned by no Muslim and doubted by no believer. But its cer­ tainty is immensely increased for those who have had close dealings with this idea and put it to the test, and made it their aim to reconcile the assertions of intel-

The Decisive Treatise )ect and tradition. Indeed, we may say that whenever a statement in Scripture conflicts in its apparent meaning with a conclusion of demonstration, if Scrip­ ture is considered carefully and the rest of its contents searched page by page, there will invariably be found among the expressions of Scripture something that in its apparent meaning bears witness to that allegorical interpretation or comes close to bearing witness. All Muslims accept the principle of allegorical in­ terpretation; they only disagree about the extent of its application. [2 1 ] In the light of this idea, the Muslims are unan­ imous in holding that it is not obligatory either to take all the expressions of Scripture in their apparent meaning or to extend them all from their apparent meaning by allegorical interpretation. They disagree (only] over which of them should and which should not be so interpreted: the Ash'arites for instance give an allegorical interpretation to the verse about God's directing Himself and the Tradition about His de­ scent, while the Hanbalites take them in their appar­ ent meaning. The double meaning has been given to suit people's diverse intelligence. The apparent contradictions are meant to stimulate the learned to deeper study. [22] The reason why we have received a Scripture with both an apparent and an inner meaning lies in the diversity of people's natural capacities and the dif­ ference of their innate dispositions with regard to as­ sent. The reason why we have received in Scripture texts whose apparent meanings contradict each other is in order to draw the attention of those who are well grounded in science to the interpretation that recon­ ciles them. This is the idea referred to in the words re­ ceived from the Exalted (3:7), "He it is who has sent down to you the Book, containing certain verses clear and definite" [and so on], down to the words, "those who are well grounded in science." In interpreting texts allegorically, we must never vi­ olate Islamic consensus when it is certain. But to es­ tablish it with certainty with regard to theoretical texts is impossible, because there have always been scholars who would not divulge their interpretation ofsuch texts. (23] It may be objected: "There are some things in Scripture that the Muslims have unanimously agreed

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to take in their apparent meaning, others [that they have agreed] to interpret allegorically, and others about which they have disagreed; is it permissible, then, that demonstration should lead to interpreting allegori­ cally what they have agreed to take in its apparent meaning, or to taking in its apparent meaning what they have agreed to interpret allegorically?" We reply: If unanimous agreement is established by a method that is certain, such [a result] is not sound; but if [the existence on agreement on those things is a matter of opinion, then it may be sound. This is why Abu Hamid, Abul-Ma'alr, and other leaders of thought said that no one should be definitely called an unbeliever for violating unanimity on a point of interpretation in matters like these. [ 24] That unanimity on theoretical matters is never determined with certainty, as it can be on practical matters, may be shown to you by the fact that it is not possible for unanimity to be determined on any ques­ tion at any period unless that period is strictly limited by us, and all the scholars existing in that period are known to us (that is, known as individuals and in their total number), and the doctrine of each of them on the question has been handed down to us on unassailable authority, and, in addition to all this, unless we are sure that the scholars existing at the time were in agreement that there is not both an apparent and an inner meaning in Scripture, that knowledge of any question ought not to be kept secret from anyone, and that there is only one way for people to understand Scripture. But it is recorded in Tradition that many of the first believers used to hold that Scripture has both an apparent and an inner meaning, and that the inner meaning ought not to be learned by anyone who is not a man of learning in this field and who is incapable of understanding it. Thus, for example, Bukharf reports a saying of 'All ibn Abr Talib, may God be pleased with him, "Speak to people about what they know. Do you want God and His Prophet to be accused of ly­ ing?" Other examples of the same kind are reported about a group of early believers. So how can it possi­ bly be conceived that a unanimous agreement can have been handed down to us about a single theoreti­ cal question, when we know definitely that not a sin­ gle period has been without scholars who held that

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there are things in Scripture whose true meamng should not be learned by all people? [ 2 5 ] The situation is different in practical matters: everyone holds that the truth about these should be disclosed to all people alike, and to establish the oc­ currence of unanimity about them we consider it suf­ ficient that the question [at issue] should have been widely discussed and that no report of controversy about it should have been handed down to us. This is enough to establish the occurrence of unanimity on matters of practice, but on matters of doctrine the case is different. Al-Chazali's charge of unbelief against al-Farabi and Ibn Sina, for asserting the world's eternity and God's ignorance of particulars and denying bodily res­ urrection, is only tentative not definite. [26] You may object: "If we ought not to call a man an unbeliever for violating unanimity in cases of alle­ gorical interpretation, because no unanimity is con­ ceivable in such cases, what do you say about the \1uslim philosophers, like Abii :\a�r and Ibn Sina? For Abu Hamid {al-Ghazali} called them both definitely unbelievers in the book of his known as The Disinte­ gration [The Incoherence of the Philosophers], on three counts: their assertions of the pre-eternity of the world, and that God the Exalted does not know particulars" ( may He be Exalted far above that [ignorance] ! ) , "and their allegorical interpretation of the passages con­ cerning the resurrection of bodies and states of exis­ tence in the next life." [27] We answer: it is apparent from what he said on the subject that his calling them both unbelievers on these counts was not definite, since he made it clear in The Book of Distinction that calling people unbe­ lievers for violating unanimity can only be tentative. Such a charge cannot be definite, because there has never been a consensus against allegorical inter­ pretation. The Qur'an itself indicates that it has inner meanings that it is the special function of the demon­ strative class to understand. [ 28] \1oreover, it is evident from what we have said that a unanimous agreement cannot be established in questions of this kind, because of the reports that many of the early believers of the first generation, as well as others, have said that there are allegorical interpreta­ tions that ought not to be expressed except to those

who are qualified to receive allegories. lbese are "those who are well grounded in science"; for we prefer to place the stop after the words of God the Exalted ( 3: 7 ) "and those who are well grounded in science," be­ cause if the scholars did not understand allegorical in­ terpretation, there would be no superiority in their assent that would oblige them to a belief in Him not found among the unlearned. God has described them as those who believe in H im, and this can only be taken to refer to the belief that is based on demonstra­ tion; and this [belief] only occurs together with the sci­ ence of allegorical interpretation. For the unlearned believers are those whose belief in Him is not based on demonstration; and if this belief that God has at­ tributed to the scholars is peculiar to them, it must come through demonstration, and if it comes through demonstration it only occurs together with the science of allegorical interpretation. For God the Exalted has informed us that those [verses] have an allegorical in­ terpretation that is the truth, and demonstration can only be of the truth. That being the case, it is not pos­ sible for general unanimity to be established about allegorical interpretations, which God has made pe­ culiar to scholars. This is self-evident to any fair-minded person. Besides, al-Ghazali was mistaken in ascribing to the Peripatetics the opinion that God docs not know particulars. Their view is that His knowledge of both particulars and universals differs from ours in being the cause, not an effect, of the object known. ')bey even hold that God sends premonitions in dreams of particular events. [29: In addition to all this we hold that Abii Hamid was mistaken about the Peripatetic philosophers in as­ cribing to them the assertion that God, Holy and Ex­ alted, does not know particulars at all. In reality they hold that God the Exalted knows them in a way that is not of the same kind as our way of knowing them. For our knowledge of them is an effect of the object known, originated when it comes into existence and changing when it changes; whereas Glorious God's Knowledge of existence is the opposite of this: it is the cause of the object known, which is existent being. Thus to suppose the two kinds of knowledge similar to each other is to identify the essences and properties of opposite things, and that is the extreme of ignorance.

The Decisive Treatise

And if the name of "knowledge" is predicated of both originated and eternal knowledge, it is predicated by sheer homonymy, as many names are predicated of opposite things: for example, jalal of great and small, sarfm of l ight and darkness. Thus there exists no defi­ �ition embracing both kinds of knowledge at once, as the theologians of our time imagine. We have devoted a separate essay to this question, impelled by one of our friends. 1 [ 30) But how can anyone imagine that the Peri­ patetics say that God the Glorious does not know par­ ticulars with His eternal Knowledge, when they hold that true visions include premonitions of particular events due to occur in future time, and that this warn­ ing foreknowledge comes to people in their sleep from the eternal Knowledge that orders and rules the uni­ verse? \1oreover, it is not only particulars that they say God does not know in the manner in which we know them but universals as well; for the universals known to us are also effects of the nature of existent being, while with His Knowledge the reverse is true. Thus the conclusion to which demonstration leads is that H is Knowledge transcends qualification as "universal" or "particular." Consequently there is no point in disput­ ing about this question, that is, whether to call them unbelievers or not. On the question of the world, the ancient philoso­ phers agree with the Ash'arites that it is originated and coeval with time. lbe Peripatetics only disagree with the Ash'arites and the Platonists in holding that past time is infinite. This difference is insufficient to justify a charge of unbelief. [ 3 1 ) Concerning the question whether the world is pre-eternal or came into existence, the disagreement between the Ash'arite theologians and the ancient philosophers is in my view almost resolvable into a dis­ agreement about naming, especially in the case of cer­ tain of the ancients. For they agree that there are three classes of beings: two extremes and one intermediate between the extremes. They agree also about naming

I. That is, The Epistle ofDedication (Risalat al-Ihda '); an English translation is available in Averroes, Decisive Trea­ ti��e and Epistle Dedicatory, tr. Charles E. Butterworth (Provo, UT: Brigham Young University Press, 2002).

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the extremes; but they disagree about the intermediate class. [ 3 2] [ l ] One extreme is a being that is brought into existence from something other than itself and by something, that is, by an efficient cause and from some matter; and it, that is, its existence, is preceded by time. This is the status of bodies whose generation is appre­ hended by sense, for example, the generation of water, air, earth, animals, plants, and so on. All alike, ancients and Ash'arites, agree in naming this class of beings "originated." [Z) The opposite extreme to this is a be­ ing which is not made from or by anything and {is} not preceded by time; and there, too, all members of both schools agree in naming it "pre-eternal." This be­ ing is apprehended by demonstration; it is God, Blessed and Exalted, Who is the Maker, Giver of be­ ing and Sustainer of the universe; may He be praised and His Power exalted! [ 3 3 ] [3] The class of being that is between these two extremes is that which is not made from anything and not preceded by time, but which is brought into exis­ tence by something, that is, by an agent. This is the world as a whole. :\'ow they all agree on the presence of these three characters in the world. For the theologians admit that time does not precede it, or rather this is a necessary consequence for them, since time according to them is something that accompanies motion and bodies. They also agree with the ancients in the view that future time is infinite, and likewise future being. They only disagree about past time and past being: the theologians hold that it is finite (this is the doctrine of Plato and his followers), while Aristotle and his school hold that it is infinite, as is the case with future time. [34) Thus, it is clear that [ 3 ) this last being bears a resemblance both to [ I ] the being that is really gener­ ated and to [ Z ] the pre-eternal Being. So those who are more impressed with its resemblance to the pre-eter­ nal than its resemblance to the originated name it "pre-eternal," while those who are more impressed with its resemblance to the originated name it "origi­ nated." But in truth it is neither really originated nor really pre-eternal, since the really originated is neces­ sarily perishable and the really pre-eternal has no cause. Some - Plato and his followers- name it "orig­ inated and coeval with time," because time according to them is finite in the past.

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[3 5] Thus, the doctrines about the world are not so very far apart from each other that some of them should be called irreligious and others not. For this to happen, opinions must be divergent in the extreme, that is, contraries such as the theologians suppose to exist on this question; that is, [they hold] that the names "pre-eternity" and "coming into existence" as applied to the world as a whole are contraries. But it is now clear from what we have said that this is not the case. Anyhow, the apparent meaning of Scripture is that there was a being and time before God created the present being and time. Thus the theologians' inter­ pretation is allegorical and does not command unan­ imous agreement. [ 36] Over and above all this, these opinions about the world do not conform to the apparent meaning of Scripture. For if the apparent meaning of Scripture is searched, it will be evident from the verses that give us information about the bringing into existence of the world that its form really is originated, but that being itself and time extend continuously at both extremes, that is, without interruption. Thus, the words of God the Exalted ( 1 1 : 7), "He it is Who created the heavens and the Earth in six days, and His throne was on the water," taken in their apparent meaning imply that there was a being before this present being, namely, the throne and the water, and a time before this time, that is, the one that is joined to the form of this being before this present being, namely, the number of the movement of the celestial sphere. And the words of the Exalted ( 1 4:48), "On the day when the Earth shall be changed into other than Earth, and the heavens as well," also in their apparent meaning imply that there will be a second being after this being. And the words of the Exalted ( 4 1 : I I ) , "Then He directed Himself to­ wards the sky, and it was smoke," in their apparent meaning imply that the heavens were created from something. [ 37] Thus the theologians too in their statements about the world do not conform to the apparent mean­ ing of Scripture but interpret it allegorically. For it is not stated in Scripture that God was existing with ab­ solutely nothing else: a text to this effect is nowhere to be found. Then how is it conceivable that the theolo­ gians' allegorical interpretation of these verses could

meet with unanimous agreement, when the apparent meaning of Scripture that we have mentioned about the existence of the world has been accepted by a school of philosophers! On such difficult questions, error committed by a qualified judge of his subject is excused by God, while error by an unqualified person is not excused. [38] 1t seems that those who disagree on the inter­ pretation of these difficult questions earn merit if they are in the right and will be excused [by God ] if they are in error. For assent to a thing as a result of an indi­ cation [of it] arising in the soul is something compul­ sory, not voluntary: that is, it is not for us [to choose] not to assent or to assent as it is to stand up or not to stand up. And since free choice is a condition of obli­ gation, a man who assents to an error as a result of a consideration that has occurred to him is excused, if he is a scholar. This is why the Prophet, peace on him, said, "If the judge after exerting his mind makes a right decision, he will have a double reward; and if he makes a wrong decision, he will [still] have a single reward." And what judge is more important than he who makes judgments about being, that it is thus or not thus' These judges are the scholars, specially cho­ sen by God for [the task ofj allegorical interpretation, and this error that is forgivable according to the Law is only such error as proceeds from scholars when they study the difficult matters that the Law obliges them to study. [ 39] But error proceeding from any other class of people is sheer sin, equally whether it relates to theo­ retical or to practical matters. For just as the judge who is ignorant of the [Prophet's] way of life is not excused if he makes an error in judgment, so he who makes judgments about beings without having the proper qualifications for [such] judgments is not excused but is either a sinner or an unbeliever. And if he who would judge what is allowed and forbidden is required to combine in himself the qualifications for exercise of personal judgment, namely, knowledge of the prin­ ciples [ of law J and knowledge of how to draw infer­ ences from those principles by reasoning, how much more properly is he who would make judgments about beings required to be qualified, that is, to know the pri­ mary intellectual principle{s} and the way to draw in­ ferences from them!

The Decisive Treatise

Texts of Scripture fall into three kinds with respect to the excusability of error. [ l ] Texts that must be taken in their apparent meaning by everyone. Since the meaning can be understood plainly by demonstrative, dialectical, and rhetorical methods alike, no one is ex­ cused for the error of interpreting these texts allegori­ cally. [2] Texts that must be taken in their apparent meaning by the lower classes and interpreted allegor­ ically by the demonstrative class. It is inexcusable for the lower classes to interpret them allegorically or for the demonstrative class to take them in their apparent meaning. [ 3] Texts whose classification under the pre­ vious headings is uncertain. Error in this matter by the demonstrative class is excused. [40] In general, error about Scripture is of two types: Either error that is excused to one who is a qual­ ified student of that matter in which the error occurs (as the skillful doctor is excused if he commits an er­ ror in the art of medicine and the skillful judge if he gives an erroneous judgment), but not excused to one who is not qualified in that subject; or error that is not excused to any person whatever, and that is unbelief if it concerns the principles of religion, or heresy if it concerns something subordinate to the principles. [41 ] This [latter] error is that which occurs about [ I ] matters, knowledge of which is provided by all the different methods of indication, so that knowledge of the matter in question is in this way possible for every­ one. Examples are acknowledgment of God, Blessed and Exalted; of the prophetic missions; and of happi­ ness and misery in the next life; for these three princi­ ples are attainable by the three classes of indication, by which everyone without exception can come to as­ sent to what he is obliged to know: I mean the rhetor­ ical, dialectical, and demonstrative indications. So whoever denies such a thing, when it is one of the principles of the Law, is an unbeliever who persists in defiance with his tongue though not with his heart, or neglects to expose himself to learning the indication of its truth. For if he belongs to the demonstrative class of men, a way has been provided for him to assent to it, by demonstration; if he belongs to the dialectical class that is convinced by preaching, the way for him is by preaching. With this in view, the Prophet, peace on him, said, "I have been ordered to fight people un­ til they say, 'There is no god but God,' and believe in

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me"; he means, by any of the three methods of attain­ ing belief that suits them. [42] [2] With regard to things that by reason of their recondite character are only knowable by demonstra­ tion, God has been gracious to those of His servants who have no access to demonstration, on account of their natures, habits, or lack of facilities for education: He has coined for them images and likenesses of these things, and summoned them to assent to those images, since it is possible for assent to those images to come about through the indications common to all men, that is, the dialectical and rhetorical indications. This is the reason why Scripture is divided into apparent and inner meanings: the apparent meaning consists of those images that are coined to stand for those ideas, while the inner meaning is those ideas [themselves] , which are clear only to the demonstrative class. These are the four or five classes of beings mentioned by Abii l:lamid in The Book of Distinction. 2 [ 43 ] [ I ] But when it happens, as we said, that we know the thing itself by the three methods, we do not need to coin images of it, and it remains true in its ap­ parent meaning, not admitting allegorical interpreta­ tion. If an apparent text of this kind refers to principles, anyone who interprets it allegorically is an unbeliever, for example, anyone who thinks that there is no hap­ piness or misery in the next life, and that the only purpose of this teaching is that men should be safe­ guarded from each other in their bodily and sensible lives, that it is but a practical device, and that man has no other goal than his sensible existence. [ 44] If this is established, it will have become clear to you from what we have said that there are [ l ] ap­ parent texts of Scripture that it is not permitted to interpret allegorically; to do so on fundamentals is un­ belief, on subordinate matters, heresy. There are also [2 J apparent texts that have to be interpreted allegori­ cally by men of the demonstrative class; for such men to take them in their apparent meaning is unbelief, while for those who are not of the demonstrative class 2. The five classes would appear to be ( 1 ) the essential, (2) the sensible, (3) the imaginative, (4) the intellectual, and (5) simile; see Butterworth's note in his translation of the Decisive Treatise, p. 55, fn. 37.

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), I 1 26-- 1 I 98

to interpret them allegorically and take them out of their apparent meaning is unbelief or heresy on their part [ 45] Of this [latter] class are the verse about God's directing H imself and the Tradition about His de­ scent. That is why the Prophet, peace on h im, said in the case of the black woman, when she told him that God was in the sky, "Free her, for she is a believer." This was because she was not of the demonstrative class; and the reason for his decision was that the class of people to whom assent comes only through the imagination, that is, who do not assent to a thing ex­ cept in so far as they can imagine it, find i t difficult to assent to the existence of a being that is unrelated to any imaginable thing. This applies as well to those who understand from the relation stated merely [that God has] a place; these are people who have advanced a little in their thought beyond the position of the first class, [by rejecting] belief in corporeality. Thus, the [proper] answer to them with regard to such passages is that they belong to the ambiguous texts, and that the stop is to be placed after the words of God the Ex­ alted ( 3 :7), "And no one knows the interpretation thereof except God." The demonstrative class, while agreeing unanimously that this class of text must be interpreted allegorically, may disagree about the inter­ pretation, according to the level of each one's knowl­ edge of demonstration. [ 46] There is also [ 3] a third class of Scriptural texts falling uncertainly between the other two classes, on which there is doubt. One group of those who devote themselves to theoretical study attach them to the ap­ parent texts that it is not permitted to interpret alle­ gorically, others attach them to the texts with inner meanings that scholars are not permitted to take in their apparent meanings. This [ divergence of opin­ ions] is due to the difficulty and ambiguity of this class of text. Anyone who commits an error about this class is excused, I mean any scholar. The texts about the future life fall into [ 3 ] . since demonstrative scholars do not agree whether to take them in their apparent meaning or interpret them al­ legorically. Either is permissible. But it is inexcusable to deny the fact of a future life altogether. [47 ] If it is asked, "Since it is clear that scriptural texts in this respect fall into three grades, to which of

these three grades, according to you, do the descrip­ tions of the future life and its states belong?" we reply: The position clearly is that this matter belongs to the class [ 3 ] about which there is disagreement. For we find a group of those who claim an affinity with demon­ stration saying that it is obligatory to take these pas­ sages in their apparent meaning, because there is no demonstration leading to the impossibility of the apparent meaning in them - this is the view of the Ash'arites; while another group of those who devote themselves to demonstration interpret these passages allegorically, ami these people give the most diverse interpretations of them. In this class must be counted Abu Hamid and many of the Sufis; some of them com­ bine the two interpretations of the passages, as Abu Hamid does in some of his books. [ 48] So it is likely that a scholar who commits an error in this matter is excused, while one who is cor­ rect receives thanks or a reward: that is, if he acknowl­ edges the existence [ of a future life] and merely gives a certain sort of allegorical interpretation, that is, of the mode of the future life, not of its existence. In this matter only the negation of existence is unbelief, be­ cause it concerns one of the principles of religion and one of those points to which assent is attainable through the three methods common to "the white man and the black man ." The unlearned classes must take such texts in their apparent meaning. It is unbelief for the learned to set down allegorical interpretations in popular writings. By doing this { al-}Ghazall caused confusion among the people. Demonstrative books should be banned to the unqualified but not to the learned. [49] But anyone who is not a man of learning is obliged to take these passages in their apparent mean­ ing, and allegorical interpretation of them is for him unbelief because it leads to unbelief. That is why we hold that, for anyone whose duty it is to bel ieve in the apparent meaning, allegorical interpretation is unbe­ l ief, because it leads to unbelief. Anyone of the inter­ pretative class who discloses such [an interpretation] to him is summoning him to unbelief, and he who summons to unbelief is an unbeliever. [ 50] 'fberefore, allegorical interpretations ought to be set down only in demonstrative books, because if they are in demonstrative books they are encountered

The Decisive Treatise bv no one but men of the demonstrative class. But if they are set down in other than demonstrative books and one deals with them by poetical, rhetorical, or dialectical methods, as Abu l::fa mid does, then he com­ mits an offense against the Law and against philoso­ phy, even though the fellow intended nothing but good. For by this procedure he wanted to increase the number of learned men, but in fact he increased the number of the corrupted not of the learned! As a re­ sult, one group came to slander philosophy, another to slander religion, and another to reconcile the [firstJ two [groups]. It seems that this [last] was one of his ob­ jects in his books; an indication that he wanted by this [procedure] to arouse minds is that he adhered to no one doctrine in his books but was an Ash 'arite with the Ash'arites, a Sufi with the Sufis, and a philosopher with the philosophers, so that he was like the man in the verse: One day a Yamani, if I meet a man ofYaman, And i f ! meet a \1a'addi, I'm an 'AdnanL [ 5 1 ] The imams of the \1uslims ought to forbid those of his books that contain learned matter to all save the learned, just as they ought to forbid demon­ strative books to those who are not capable of under­ standing them. But the damage done to people by demonstrative books is lighter, because for the most part only persons of superior natural intelligence be­ come acquainted with demonstrative books, and this class of persons is only misled through lack of practi­ cal virtue, unorganized reading, and tackling them without a teacher. On the other hand, their total pro­ hibition obstructs the purpose to which the Law sum­ mons, because it is a wrong to the best class of people and the best class ofbeings. For to do justice to the best class of beings demands that they should be known profoundly, by persons equipped to know them pro­ foundly, and these are the best class of people; and the greater the value of the being, the greater is the injury towards it, which consists of ignorance of it. Thus, the Exalted has said ( 3 1 : l 3 ), "Associating [other gods] with God is indeed a great wrong." We have only discussed these questions in a pop­ ular work because they were already being publicly discussed.

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[ 52] This is as much as we see fit to affirm in this field of study, that is, the correspondence between re­ ligion and philosophy and the rules for allegorical in­ terpretation in religion. If it were not for the publicity given to the matter and to these questions that we have discussed, we should not have permitted ourselves to write a word on the subject; and we should not have had to make excuses for doing so to the interpretative scholars, because the proper place to discuss these questions is in demonstrative books. God is the Guide and helps us to follow the right course! 3. Philosophical Interpretations of Scripture Should :'\ot Be Taught to the \1ajority. The Law Provides Other \1ethods of Instructing Them The purpose of Scripture is to teach true theoretical and practical science and right practice and attitudes. [ 5 3] You ought to know that the purpose of Scrip­ ture is simply to teach true science and right practice. True science is knowledge of God, Blessed and Ex­ alted, and the other beings as they really are, and es­ pecially of noble beings, and knowledge of happiness and misery in the next life. Right practice consists in performing the acts that bring happiness and avoiding the acts that bring misery; and it is knowledge of these acts that is called "practical science." They fall into two divisions: ( I ) outward bodily acts; the science of these is called "jurisprudence," and (2) acts of the soul, such as gratitude, patience, and other moral attitudes that the Law enjoins or forbids; the science of these is called "asceticism" or "the sciences of the future l ife." To these Abu l::f a mid turned his attention in his book: as people had given up this sort [of act] and become immersed in the other sort, and as this sort [2] involves the greater fear of God, which is the cause of happi­ ness, he called his book The Revival of the Sciences of Religion. But we have digressed from our subject, so let us return to it. Scripture teaches concepts both directly and by symbols, and uses demonstrative, dialectical, and rhe­ torical arguments. Dialectical and rhetorical arguments are prevalent, because the main aim of Scripture is to teach the majority. In these arguments, concepts are indicated directly or by symbols, in various combina­ tions in premises and conclusion{s}.

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26--1 1 98

[ 54] We say: The purpose of Scripture is to teach true science and right practice; and teaching is of two classes, [of] concepts and [of] judgments, as the logi­ cians have shown. �ow the methods available to men of [arriving at] judgments are three: demonstrative, di­ alectical, and rhetorical; and the methods of forming concepts are two: either [conceiving] the object itself or [conceiving] a symbol of it. But not everyone has the natural ability to take in demonstrations, or [even] dialectical arguments, let alone demonstrative argu­ ments that are so hard to learn and need so much time [even] for those who are qualified to learn them. There­ fore, since it is the purpose of Scripture simply to teach everyone, Scripture has to contain every method of [bringing about] judgments of assent and every method of forming concepts. [ 5 5 ] ;'\low some of the methods of assent compre­ hend the majority of people, that is, the occurrence of assent as a result of them [ is comprehensive]: these are the rhetorical and the dialectical [methods ] - and the rhetorical is more comprehensive than the dialectical. Another method is peculiar to a smaller number of people: this is the demonstrative. Therefore, since the primary purpose of Scripture is to take care of the majority (without neglecting to arouse the elite), the prevailing methods of expression in religion are the common methods by which the majority comes to form concepts and judgments. [ 56] 'These [common] methods in religion are of four classes: [ 56. 1 ] One of them occurs where the method is common yet specialized in two respects: that is, where it is certain in its concepts and judg­ ments, in spite of being rhetorical or dialectical. These syllogisms are those whose premises, in spite of being based on accepted ideas or on opinions, are accidentally certain, and whose conclusions are accidentally to be taken in their direct meaning without symbolization. Scrip­ tural texts of this class have no allegorical inter­ pretations, and anyone who denies them or interprets them allegorically is an unbeliever. [ 56. Z] The second class occurs where the prem­ ises, in spite of being based on accepted ideas or on opinions, are certain, and where the con-

elusions are symbols for the things that it was in­ tended to conclude. [Texts of] this [class ] , that is their conclusions, admit of allegorical inter­ pretation. [ 56. 3] The third is the reverse of this: it occurs where the conclusions are the very things that it was intended to conclude, while the premises are based on accepted ideas or on opinions without being accidentally certain. [Texts of] this [class] also, that is, their conclusions, do not admit of allegorical interpretation, but their premises may do so. [ 56.4] The fourth [class] occurs where the premises are based on accepted ideas or opin­ ions, without being accidentally certain, and where the conclusions are symbols for what it was intended to conclude. In these cases the duty of the elite is to interpret them allegori­ cally, while the duty of the masses is to take them in their apparent meaning. Where symbols are used, each class of men, demon­ strative, dialectical, and rhetorical, must try to under­ stand the inner meaning symbolized or rest con­ tent with the apparent meaning, according to their capacities. [ 57] In general, everything in these [texts] that ad­ mits of allegorical interpretation can only be under­ stood by demonstration. The duty of the elite here is to apply such interpretation; while the duty of the masses is to take them in their apparent meaning in both respects, that is, in concept and judgment, since their natural capacity does not allow more than that. [ 5 8] But there may occur to students of Scripture allegorical interpretations due to the superiority of one of the common methods over another in [bring­ ing about] assent, that is, when the indication con­ tained in the allegorical interpretation is more per­ suasive than the indication contained in the apparent meaning. Such interpretations are popular; and [ the making of them] is possibly a duty, for those powers of theoretical understanding have attained the dialecti­ cal level. To this sort belong some of the interpreta­ tions of the Ash'arites and :\1u'tazilites - though the :\1u'tazilites are generally sounder in their statements. The masses, on the other hand, who are incapable of

The Decisive Treatise

more than rhetorical arguments, have the duty of tak­ ing these [texts] in their apparent meaning, and they are not permitted to know such interpretations at alL [ 59] Thus, people in relation to Scripture fall into three classes: [ 59. 1 ) One class is these who are not people of interpretation at all: these are the rhetorical class. They are the overwhelming mass, for no man of sound intellect is exempted from this kind of assent. [59.2] Another class is the people of dialectical interpretation: these are the dialecticians, either by nature alone or by nature and habit. [ 59.3 ) Another class is the people of certain in­ terpretation: these are the demonstrative class, by nature and training, that is, in the art of phi­ losophy. This interpretation ought not to be ex­ pressed to the dialectical class, let alone to the masses. To explain the inner meaning to people unable to understand it is to destroy their belief in the apparent meaning without putting anything in its place. The re­ sult is unbelief in learners and teachers. It is best for the learned to profess ignorance, quoting the Qur'an on the limitation of man's understanding. [60] When something of these allegorical interpre­ tations is expressed to anyone unfit to receive them­ especially demonstrative interpretations, because of their remoteness from common knowledge -both he who expresses it and he to whom it is expressed are led into unbelief. The reason for that [in the case of the latter) is that allegorical interpretation comprises two things, rejection of the apparent meaning and affir­ mation of the allegorical one; so that if the apparent meaning is rejected in the mind of someone who can only grasp apparent meanings, without the allegorical meaning being affirmed in his mind, the result is un­ belief, if it [the text in question] concerns the princi­ ples of religion. [6 1 ] Allegorical interpretations, then, ought not to be expressed to the masses nor set down in rhetorical or dialectical books, that is, books containing argu­ menbi of these two sorts, as was done by Abu Hamid. They should [not] be expressed to this class; and with

301

regard to a n apparent text, when there is a [self-evi­ dent] doubt whether it is apparent to everyone and whether knowledge of its interpretation is impossible for them, they should be told that it is ambiguous and [its meaning] known by no one except God; and that the stop should be put here in the sentence of the Ex­ alted (3:7), "And no one knows the interpretation thereof except God." The same kind of answer should also be given to a question about abstruse matters, which there is no way for the masses to understand; just as the Exalted has answered in H is saying ( 1 7:85), "And they will ask you about the Spirit. Say, The Spirit is by the command of my Lord; you have been given only a little knowledge.' " Certain people have injured the masses particu­ larly, by giving them allegorical interpretations that are false. These people are exactly analogous to bad med­ ical advisers. The true doctor is related to bodily health in the same way as the Legislator to spiritual health, which the Qur'an teaches us to pursue. The true alle­ gory is "the deposit" mentioned in the Qur'an. [62] As for the man who expresses these allegories to unqualified persons, he is an unbel iever on account of his summoning people to unbelief. This is contrary to the summons of the Legislator, especially when they are false allegories concerning the principles of religion, as has happened in the case of a group of people of our time. For we have seen some of them thinking that they were being philosophic and that they perceived, with their remarkable wisdom, things that conflict with Scripture in every respect, that is [in passages] that do not admit of allegorical interpreta­ tion; and that it was obligatory to express these things to the masses. But by expressing those false beliefs to the masses, they have been a cause of perdition to the masses and themselves, in this world and the next. [ 6 3] The relation between the aim of these people and the aim of the Legislator [can be illustrated by] a parable of a man who goes to a skillful doctor. [This doctor's) aim is to preserve the health and cure the dis­ eases of all the people by prescribing for them rules that can be commonly accepted about the necessity of using the things that will preserve their health and cure their diseases and avoiding the opposite things. He is unable to make them all doctors, because a doc­ tor is one who knows by demonstrative methods the

302

Ibn Rushd (Avenues), 1 126-- 1 1 98

things that preserve health and cure disease. :\'ow this [man whom we have mentioned] goes out to the people and tells them, "These methods prescribed by this doctor for you are not right"; and he sets out to dis-­ credit them, so that they are rejected by the people. Or he says, 'They have allegorical interpretations"; but the people neither understand these nor assent to them in practice. Well, do you think that people in this condition will do any of the things that are useful for preserving health and curing disease, or that this man who has persuaded them to reject what they formerly believed in will now be able to use those [things] with them, I mean for preserving health? :\'o, he will be un­ able to use those [th ings] with them, nor will they use them, and so they will all perish. [64] This [is what will happen] if he expresses to them true allegories about those matters, because of their inability to understand them; let alone if he ex­ presses to them false allegories, because this will lead them to think that there are no such things as health that ought to be preserved and disease that ought to be cured - let alone that there are things that preserve health and cure disease. It is the same when someone expresses allegories to the masses, and to those who are not qualified to understand them, in the sphere of Scripture; thus he makes it appear false and turns people away from it, and he who turns people away from Scripture is an unbeliever. [65] Indeed this comparison is certain, not poetic, as one might suppose. It presents a true analogy, in that the relation of the doctor to the health of bodies is [the same as) the relation of the Legislator to the health of souls; that is, the doctor is he who seeks to preserve the health of bodies when it exists and to restore it when it is lost, while the Legislator is he who desires this :end] for the health of souls. This health is what is called "fear of God." The precious Book has told us to seek it by acts conformable to the Law, in several verses. Thus, the Exalted has said (2: 1 8 3), "Fasting has been prescribed for you, as it was prescribed for those who were before you; perhaps you will fear God." Again the Exalted has said (22: 37), "Their flesh and their blood shall not touch God, but your fear shall touch him"; ( 29:45), "Prayer prevents immorality and transgression"; and other verses to the same effect con­ tained in the precious Book. Through knowledge of

Scripture and practice according to Scripture the Leg­ islator aims solely at this health; and it is from this health that happiness in the future life follows, just as misery in the future life follows from its opposite. [66] From this it will be clear to you that true alle­ gories ought not to be set down in popular books, let alone false ones. The true allegory is the deposit that man was charged to hold and that he held, and from which all beings shied away, that is, that which is men­ tioned in the words of the Exalted ( 3 3:72), "We offered the deposit to the heavens, the Earth and the moun­ tains," [and so on to the end of] the verse. It was due to the wrong use of allegorical interpre­ tation b� the :\1u'tazilites and Ash'arites that hostile sects arose in Islam. [67] It was due to allegorical interpretations ­ especially the false ones-and the supposition that such interpretations of Scripture ought to be expressed to everyone, that the sects of Islam arose, with the result that each one accused the others of unbelief or heresy. Thus the :\1u'tazilites interpreted many verses and Traditions allegorically, and expressed their interpre­ tations to the masses, and the Ash'arites did the same, although they used such interpretations less frequently. In consequence they threw people into hatred, mutual detestation, and wars; tore the Scriptures to shreds; and completely divided people. [68) In addition to all this, in the methods that they followed to establish their interpretations, they neither went along with the masses nor with the elite: not with the masses, because their methods were [more j oir scure than the methods common to the majority, and not with the elite, because if these methods are in­ spected they are found deficient in the conditions [ re­ quired] for demonstrations, as will be understood after the slightest inspection by anyone acquainted with the conditions of demonstration. Further, many of the principles on which the Ash'arites based their knowl­ edge are sophistical, for they deny many necessary truths, such as the permanence of accidents, the ac­ tion of things on other things, and the existence of nec­ essary causes for effects, of substantial forms, and of secondary causes. [69] And their theorists wronged the :\1uslims in this sense, that a sect ofAsh 'a rites called an unbeliever anyone who did not attain knowledge of the existence

The Decisive Treatise

of the Glorious Creator by the methods laid down by them in their books for attaining this knowledge. But in truth it is they who are the unbelievers and in error! From this point they proceeded to disagree, one group saying, "The primary obligation is theoretical study," another group saying, "It is belief'; that is, [this hap­ pened] because they did not know which are the methods common to everyone, through whose doors the Law has summoned all people [to enter); they supposed that there was only one method. Thus they mistook the aim of the Legislator and were both them­ selves in error and led others into error. The proper methods for teaching the people are in­ dicated in the Qur'an, as the early Muslims knew. The popular portions of the Book are miraculous in pro­ viding for the needs of every class of mind. We intend to make a study of its teachings at the apparent level and thus help to remedy the grievous harm done by ignorant partisans of philosophy and religion. [70) lt may be asked: "If these methods followed by the Ash'arites and other theorists are not the com­ mon methods by which the Legislator has aimed to teach the masses, and by which alone it is possible to teach them, then what are those [common) methods in this religion of ours?" We reply: They are exclu­ sively the methods set down in the precious Book. For if the precious Book is inspected, there will be found in it the three methods that are available for all the people, [namely], the common methods for the in­ struction of the majority of the people and the special method. And if their merits are inspected, it becomes apparent that no better common methods for the in­ struction of the masses can be found than the meth­ ods mentioned in it. [ 7 1 ) Thus, whoever tampers with them, by making an allegorical interpretation not apparent in itself, or [at least] not more apparent to everyone than they are (and that [greater apparency) is something nonexist­ ent), is rejecting their wisdom and rejecting their in­ tended effects in procuring human happiness. This is very apparent from [a comparison of] the condition of the first believers with the condition of those who came after them. For the first believers arrived at per­ fect virtue and fear of God only by using these sayings [of Scripture) without interpreting them allegorically; and anyone of them who did find out an allegorical in-

303

terpretation did not think fit to express it [to others). But when those who came after them used allegorical interpretation, their fear of God grew less, their dis­ sensions increased, their love for one another was re­ moved, and they became divided into sects. [72) So whoever wishes to remove this heresy from religion should direct his attention to the precious Book, and glean from it the indications present [in it) concerning everything in turn that it obliges us to believe, and exercise his judgment in looking at its apparent meaning as well as he is able, without inter­ preting any of it allegorically except where the alle­ gorical meaning is apparent in itself, that is, commonly apparent to everyone. For if the sayings set down in Scripture for the instruction of the people are in­ spected, it seems that in mastering their meaning one arrives at a point beyond which none but a man of the demonstrative class can extract from their apparent wording a meaning that is not apparent in them. This property is not found in any other sayings. [73) For those religious sayings in the precious Book that are expressed to everyone have three prop­ erties that indicate their miraculous character: ( I ) There exist none more completely persuasive and convinc­ ing to everyone than they. (2) Their meaning admits naturally of mastery, up to a point beyond which their allegorical interpretation (when they are of a kind to have such an interpretation) can only be found out by the demonstrative class. ( 3) They contain means of drawing the attention of the people of truth to the true allegorical meaning. This [character) is not found in the doctrines of the Ash'arites nor in those of the .\1u'tazilites, that is, their interpretations do not admit of mastery nor contain [means of] drawing attention to the truth, nor are they true; and this is why heresies have multiplied . [74) It is our desire to devote our time to this object and achieve it effectively, and if God grants us a respite of life we shall work steadily towards it in so far as this is made possible for us; and it may be that that work will serve as a starting point for our successors. For our soul is in the utmost sorrow and pain by reason of the evil fancies and perverted beliefs that have infiltrated this religion, and particularly such [afflictions) as have happened to it at the hands of people who claim an affinity with philosophy. For injuries from a friend are

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Ibn Rushd (Avenues), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

more severe than injuries from an enemy. I refer to the fact that philosophy is the friend and milk-sister of re­ ligion; thus injuries from people related to philosophy are the severest injuries [to religion ] - apart from the enmity, hatred, and quarrels that such [injuries] stir up between the two, which are companions by nature and lovers by essence and instinct. It has also been in­ jured by a host of ignorant friends who claim an affin­ ity with it: these are the sects that exist within it. But God directs all men aright and helps everyone to love H im; He unites their hearts in the fear of Him, and re­ moves from them hatred and loathing by H is grace and His mercy!

[ 7 5 ] Indeed, God has already removed many of these ills, ignorant ideas, and misleading practices by means of this triumphant rule. By it He has opened a way to many benefits, especially to the class of persons who have trodden the path of study and sought to know the truth. This [He has done] by summoning the masses to a middle way of knowing God the Glorious, [a way] that is raised above the low level of the follow­ ers of authority but is below the turbulence of the the­ ologians; and by drawing the attention of the elite to their obligation to make a thorough study of the prin­ ciples of religion. God is the Giver of success and the Guide by H is Goodness.

2 6 . Lon g Commentary on "The Soul" Book 3

Text 4. It is necessary, therefore, that, if [the intellect] understands all things, it be not mixed, as Anaxagoras has said, in order that it may dominate, that is, in or­ der that it may understand. For if [something] were to appear in it, that which appears would prevent some­ thing foreign [from appearing in it]. since it is some­ thing other. Commentary. After [Aristotle] has set down that the material, receiving intellect must belong to the genus of passive powers, and that, in spite of this, it is not al­ tered by the reception [of that which it receives] . for it is neither a body nor a power within a body, he pro­ vides a demonstration for this [opinion] . And he says: It is necessary, therefore, that if the intellect under­ stands, etc. That is, it is necessary, therefore, that if [the intellect] understands all those things that exist Translated for this volume by Arthur Hyman from Aver­ rois Cordubensis Commentarium .\1agnum in Aristotelis De Anima Libros, ed. F. S. Crawford (Cambridge, MA: The Medieval Academy of America, I 953).

outside the soul, it be described- prior to its under­ standing-as belonging to the genus of passive, not ac­ tive, powers, and [ it is necessary J that it be not mixed with bodies, that is, that it be neither a body nor a power within a body, be it a natural or animate [power] . as Anaxagoras has said. Thereafter [Aristotle] says: In order that it may understand, etc. That is, it is necessary that it be not mixed, in order that it may un­ derstand all things and receive them. For if it were mixed, then it would be either a body or a power within a body, and if it were one of these, it would have a form proper to itself, which form would prevent it from recei\·ing some foreign form . This is what he has in mind when he says: For if something were to appear in it, etc. That is, if [the pas­ sive intellect] were to have a form proper to itself, then that form would prevent it from receiving the various external forms, which are different from it. Thus, one must inquire into those propositions by means of which Aristotle shows these two things about the intellect, namely, [ I ] that it belongs to the genus of passive pow­ ers, and [2] that it is not alterable, since it is neither a body nor a power within a body. For these two [propo­ sitions] are the starting point of all those things that are

Long Commentary on 'The Soul"

said about the intellect. As Plato said, the most exten­ sive discussion must take place in the beginning; for the slightest error in the beginning is the cause of the greatest error in the end, as Aristotle says. We say: That conception by the intellect belongs in some way to a passive power, just as in the case of a sensory power [perception by a sense belongs to a pas­ sive power] , becomes clear through the following [considerations] . :\ow, the passive powers are move­ able by that to which they are related (attribuuntur), while active powers move that to which they are re­ lated (attribuuntur). And since it is the case that some­ thing moves something else only insofar as it exists in actuality and [something] is moved insofar as it exists in potentiality, it follows necessarily that since the forms of things exist in actuality outside the soul, they move the rational soul insofar as it understands them, just as in the case of sensible things it is necessary that they move the senses insofar as they are things existing in actuality and that the senses are moved by them. Therefore, the rational soul must consider the forms (intentiones) that are in the imaginative faculty, just as the senses must inspect sensible things. And since it appears that the forms of external things move this power in such a way that the mind abstracts these forms from material things and thereby makes them the first intelligibles in actuality, after they had been intelligibles in potentiality - it appears from this that this soul [the intellect] is [also] active, not [only] pas­ sive. For insofar as the intelligibles move [the intel­ lect], it is passive, but insofar as they are moved by it, it is active. For this reason Aristotle states subsequently that it is necessary to posit in the rational soul the fol­ lowing two distinct [powers], namely, an active power and a passive power. And he states clearly that each one of [the rational soul's] parts is neither generable nor corruptible. In the present discussion, however, he begins to describe the nature (substantiam) of this passive power, to the extent to which it is necessary in this exposition. Therefore he states that this distinct [power] , namely, that which is passive and receptive, exists in the rational faculty. That the substance that receives these forms can­ not be a body or a power in a body becomes clear from the propositions of which Aristotle makes use in this discussion. One of these is that this substance [the rna-

305

terial intellect] receives all material forms, and this is [something well] known about this intellect. The other is that everything that receives something else must necessarily be devoid of the nature of that which it receives and that its essence (substantiam) is not the same in species as the essence (substantiam ) of that which it receives. For if that which receives is of the same nature as that which is received, then something would receive itself, and that which moves would be the same as that which is moved. Wherefore it is nec­ essary that the sense that receives color lacks color and the sense that receives sound lacks sound. And this proposition is necessarily [true] , and there is no doubt about it. From these two propositions it follows that the substance that is called the material intellect does not have any of the material forms in its nature. And since the material forms are either a body or forms in a body, it is evident that the substance that is called the material intellect is not a body or a form in a body. For this reason it is not mixed with matter in any way at all. And you should know that what he states is nec­ essarily [so], [namely,] that, since it [the material in­ tellect] is a substance and since it receives the forms of material things or material [forms] , it does not have in itself a material form, that is [it is not] composed of matter and form. :\or is it some one of the mate­ rial forms, for the material forms are not separable [from bodies ] . :\or, again, is it one of the first simple forms, since these are separable [from bodies ] , but it l the material intellect] does not . . . receive forms ex­ cept as differentiated and insofar as they are intelligi­ ble in potential ity, not in actuality [that is, it must be related to the body in some way ] . Therefore it is something different from form and from matter and from that which is composed of these. But whether this substance [the material intellect] has a proper form that is different in its being from the material forms has not yet been explained in this discussion. For the proposition that states that that which re­ ceives must be devoid of the nature of that which it receives is understood as referring to the nature of the species, not to the nature of its genus, and even less to [the nature on something remote, and still less to [the nature on something which is predicated according to equivocation. Thus we say that in the sense of touch there exists something intermediate

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Ibn Rushd (Avenues), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

between the two contraries that it perceives, for con­ traries differ in species from intermediate things. Since this is the disposition of the material intellect, namely, that it is some existing thing, and that it is a power separate from body, and that it has no material form, it is clear that it is not passive [in the sense of be-

ing alterable] (for passive things, that is, things which are alterable, are like material forms), and that it is simple, and separable from body, as Aristotle says. "The nature of the material intellect is understood by Aris­ totle in this manner. We shall speak subsequently about the questions which he raised.

2 7 . Lon g Commentary on "The Soul" Book

3,

Comment

5

Text 5 (De anima 3 .4, 4Z9a2 1-Z4).

Thus, the [material intellect] will have no na­ ture, except that, namely, what is possible. That which is [part] of the soul that is called "intel­ lect" (and I call "intellect" that by means of which we discriminate and think) is not some being in act before it intellects. [ I ] Commentary. Since [Aristotle] has explained that the material intellect does not have some material form, he begins to define it in this way. He said that in light of this it has no nature but the nature of the possibility to receive material intelligible forms. He

said, "Thus, [it] . . . will have no nature," which is to say, therefore that [part] of the soul that is called "the material intellect" has no nature and essence by which it is constituted as material but the nature of possibil ity, since it is stripped of all material and in­ telligible forms. [Z] :\ext he said, "I call 'intellect' [that by means of which we discriminate and think]." In other words, I mean by "intellect" here the faculty of the soul that is called "intellect" in the true sense, not the faculty that is called "intellect" in the broad sense, namely, the "imaginative faculty," in the Greek language [ymagi­ nativam = Arabic fantasiya] , but rather the faculty by which we discriminate theoretical things and think about future things to be done. Thereafter he said, it "is not some being in act before it intellects," that is, therefore, the definition of the material intellect is that which is potentially all the intentions (intentio ma'na) of the uni\·ersal material forms, but it is not any of the beings in act before it itself intellects [any of them] . [ 3 ] Since this is the definition of the material in­ tellect, it obviously differs in [Aristotle's j opinion from prime matter in this respect, that it is potentially all in­ tentions of the material universal forms, whereas prime matter is potentially all of those sensible forms, neither as knowing or comprehending. The reason why this nature discriminates and knows, whereas prime matter neither knows nor discriminates, is be­ cause prime matter receives distinct forms, namely, in­ dividual and particular [forms], while [the material =

From Classical Arabic Philosophy, tr. Jon \1cCinnis and David C. Reisman ( Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Com­ pany, 2007). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

For discussions of many of the topics treated in the fol­ lowing selections, see Richard C. Taylor, "Remarks on Cogitatio in Averroes' Commentarium Magnum in Aris­ totelis De anima Libros," in Avenues and the Aristotelian Tradition, ed. Endress and Aertsen ( Lei den : Brill, 1 999), 2 1 7-2 ;;, as well as his "Separate \1aterial Intellect in Averroes' Mature Philosophy," in Words, Texts, and Con­ cepts, Cruising the Mediterranean Sea, ed. Arnzen and Thielmann (Leuven: Peeters, 2004), 289-309.

Long Commentary on ''The Soul"

intellect] receives universal forms. From this it is ap­ parent that this nature is not a particular, neither a body nor a faculty in a body, since if it were, then it would receive the forms as distinct and particular. If this were so, then the forms existing in it would be per tentially intelligible, and so [the material intellect] would not discriminate the nature ofthe forms as forms, in which case it would be a disposition for individual forms, whether incorporeal or corporeal. Thus, if that nature, which is called "intellect," receives forms, nec­ essarily it receives forms by a manner of reception dif­ ferent from that according to which those material things receive forms whose contracting by matter is the determination of the prime matter in them. Thus, it is neither necessary that �the material intellect] be­ longs to the genus of those material things in which the forms are included nor necessary that it is prime matter itself. Since if it were so, then the reception in these would be generically the same; for a difference of nature in what is received makes for a difference of nature in what is receiving. This, therefore, moved Aristotle to posit that this nature is different from the nature of matter, form, and the nature composed [of matter and form J . [4] Thus, this led Theophrastus, Themistius, and many of the commentators to believe that the mate­ rial intellect is neither a generable nor a corruptible substance; for every generable and corruptible thing is a this, but it was just demonstrated that this [nature] is not a this, neither a body nor a form in a body. Ac­ cordingly, it led them to believe that this is the view of Aristotle; for this account, namely, that [the material] intellect is such, is quite apparent to those who exam­ ine Aristotle's demonstration and his words: concern­ ing the demonstration it is as we explained, and it certainly concerns the words because [Aristotle J said that it is impassive, and said that it is separable and simple. These three words ["impassive," "separable," and "simple"] are frequently used by Aristotle con­ cerning [the material intellect] , and it is incorrect­ nay, it is not even plausible - that someone use them in a demonstrative doctrine concerning what is gen­ erated and corrupted. [ ; ] But they later saw Aristotle say that if there is an intellect in potency, it is necessary that there is also an actual intellect, namely, an agent, that is, that which

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draws what is potential from potency into act, and that there is an intellect drawn from potency into act, that is, that [act] which the Active Intellect places into the material intellect as the art puts the forms of its art into the matter used by the artist. Now when they saw this, they were of the opinion that this third intellect, which is the theoretical intellect and which the Active Intel­ lect puts into the receiving material intellect, must be eternal; for when the recipient and agent are eternal, then the effect must necessarily be eternal. Since they believed this, it follows [on their view] that in reality [the theoretical intellect] would be neither the Active Intellect nor the effect, since an agent and effect are understood only in connection with generation in time. Or at the very least it turns out that to say [the Active Intellect] is an "agent" and [the theoretical in­ tellect] an "effect" is merely to speak by analogy, and that the theoretical intellect is nothing other than the perfection of the material intellect by the Active In­ tellect, such that the theoretical intellect [turns out] to be something composed of the material intellect and the actual intellect. That it seems to be the case that the Active Intellect sometimes intellects when it is joined with us and sometimes does not intellect hap­ pens because of a mixing, namely, because of [the Ac­ tive Intellect's J mixing with the material intellect. It was for this reason only [that they supposed] that Aris­ totle was forced to posit a material intellect, not be­ cause the theoretical intelligibles are generated and made. [ 6] They confirmed this by what Aristotle declared, �namely], that the Active Intellect exists in our soul when we seem first to strip forms from the matter and then intellects them, but "to strip" is nothing other than to make them actual intelligibles after they were potential [ intelligibles], just as to comprehend them is nothing other than to receive them. [7] When they saw that this activity that creates and generates the intelligibles is referred to our will and can be augmented in us as an augmentation ofthe intellect in us, namely, of the theoretical intellect­ and it was already declared that the intellect that cre­ ates and generates the things that are understandable and intelligible is an Active Intellect- they said that the dispositional intellect is this intellect but that sometimes a deficiency and sometimes an addition

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Ibn Rushd (Avenues), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

happens to it on account of the mixing. This, there­ fore, moved Theophrastus, Themistius, and the others to believe this of the theoretical intellect and to say that this was Aristotle's opinion. [8] The problems concerning this [view] are not few. The first of them is that this position contradicts that which Aristotle puts forth, namely, that the rela­ tion of the actual intelligible to the material intellect is like the relation of the sensible object to the one sensing. It also contradicts the truth in itself; for if the intellect's activity of conceptualizing were eternal, then what is conceptualized by the intellect would have to be eternal, for which reason the sensible forms would necessarily be actually intelligible outside of the soul and not at all material, but this is contrary to what is found in these forms. [9] Also Aristotle openly says in this book that the relation of these rational powers that discriminate the intentions of the imagined forms is like the relation of the senses to the objects of sensation. Thus, the soul intellects nothing without the imagination in the same way that the senses sense nothing without the pres­ ence of the sensible. 1 Therefore, if the intentions that the intellect comprehends from the imagined forms were eternal, the intentions of the imaginative powers would be eternal. If these were eternal, then sensa­ tions would be eternal; for sensations are related to this faculty just as imaginable intentions are related to the rational faculty. If sensations were eternal, then the sensed things would be eternal, or the sensations would be intentions different from the intentions of things existing outside the soul in matter; for it is im­ possible to posit that they are the same intentions, sometimes eternal, sometimes corruptible, unless it were possible that the corruptible nature is changed and reverts to the eternal. Thus, if these intentions that are in the soul are of generable and corruptible things, necessarily those also are generable and corruptible. Concerning this there was a lengthy discussion in an­ other place. [ 1 0] This, therefore, is one of the impossibilities that seems to tell against this opinion, namely, the one that we put forth, that is, that the material intellect is I . Compare Aristotle, De anima 3.7, 1 6-- 1 7.

not a power made anew [for each human]. For it is held that it is impossible to imagine in what way the intelligibles will have come into being, while yet this will not have come into being, since whenever the agent and patient are eternal, necessarily the effect is eternal. Also, if we posit that the effect is generated, that is, the dispositional intellect, then how can we say about it that it generates and creates the intelligibles [ that are themselves eternal ]? [ I I ] There is also a second, much more difficult problem. It is that if the material intellect is the first perfection of the human that the definition of the soul makes clear, and the theoretical intellect is the final perfection, but the human is something generable and corruptible and is numerically one by means of his final perfection by the intellect, then he is neces­ sarily such through its first perfection; in other words, through the first perfection of the intellect I am other than you and you are other than me. If not, you would be through my being and I through your being, and in general a human would be a being before he was, and thus a human would not be generable and corruptible in that part that is human, but if at all, it will be in that part that is animal. For it is thought that just as if the fi rst perfection is a particular and as many in number as the number of individuals, it is necessary that the fi­ nal perfection is of this kind [i.e., it is a particular and as many in number as the number of individuals], so also the converse is necessary, namely, that if the final perfection is as many in number as the number of in­ dividual humans, necessarily the first perfection is of this manner. [ 1 2 ] \1any other impossibilities follow on this po­ sition. Since, if the first perfection of all humans were the same and not as many in number as their number, it would follow that when I would have acquired a par­ ticular intelligible, you also would have acquired that same one; whenever I should forget a certain intelli­ gible, you would also. \1any other impossibilities fol­ low on this position; for it is thought that there is no difference between either position l i.e., whether first or final perfection] concerning which the impossibil­ ities follow, namely, as a result of our positing that the final and first perfection are of the same kind, that is, not as many in number as the number of the individ­ uals. If we want to avoid all of these impossibilities, it

Long Commentary on 'The Soul" falls to us to posit that the first perfection is a particu­ lar, namely, an individual in matter, numerically as many as the number of individual humans, and is gen­ erable and corruptible. It has now been explained on the basis of the reported demonstration of Aristotle that [the material intellect] is not a particular, neither a body nor a power in the body. Therefore, how can we avoid this error and solve this problem? [ 1 3 ] Alexander relies on this last [line of reasoningj. He says that it belongs more so to physics, namely, the line of reason concluding that the material intellect is a generated power such that what we think about it is correctly believed about the other faculties of the soul, namely, that they are a preparedness made in the body through itself by mixing and combining. He says this is not unbelievable, namely, that from a mixing of the elements such a noble marvel comes to be from the substance of the elements on account of a maximal mixing, even though it is unusual. [ 14] He gives as evidence about this that it is pos­ sible from this [i.e., a maximal mixing of the ele­ ments] that there appears the composition that first occurs in the elements, namely, the composition of the four simple qualities [e.g., hot, cold, wet, and dry], although that composition is minor, it is the cause of maximal mixing, inasmuch as one is fire and the other air. [ 1 5 ] Since that is so, it is not improbable that owing to the high degree of composition that is in the humans and animals, there comes to be in them pow­ ers that are different to such a great extent from the substances of the elements. [ 1 6] He openly and generally proclaims this at the beginning of his book De anima, and he prefaced that one considering the soul at first ought to know in ad­ vance the wonders of the human body's composition. He also said in the treatise he wrote, On the Intellect according to the Opinion ofAristotle, that the material intellect is a power made from a combination. These are his words: "Therefore, when from the body, at any time something is mixed by means of some mixture, something will be generated from the entire mixture such that it is suited to be an instrument of that intel­ lect that is in this mixture. Since it exists in every [hu­ man] body and that instrument is also a body, it is called the 'potential intellect' and it is a power made

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from the mixture that occurred to the body prepared to receive the actual intellect."2 [ 1 7 ] This opinion concerning the substance of the material intellect is at odds with the words of Aristotle and his demonstration: with the words where [Aristo­ tle] says that the material intellect is separable and that it has no corporeal instrument, but that it is simple and impassive, that is, it is unchanging, and where [Aris­ totle] praises Anaxagoras concerning what he said, namely, that it is not mixed with a body; 3 and certainly [far] from the demonstration as it was understood i n that which w e have written. [ 1 8] Alexander interprets Aristotle's demonstration by which [Aristotle] concludes that the material intel­ lect is not passive and is not a particular, and is neither a body nor a power in a body, such that he meant the preparedness itself, not the subject of the prepared­ ness. [Alexander] thus says in his book De anima that the material intellect is more like the preparedness that is in a tablet on which nothing has been written than a prepared tablet.4 He says of this preparedness that it can truly be said not to be a particular, neither a body nor a power in a body, and that it is impassive. [ 19] There is nothing in what Alexander said; for this is truly said of every preparedness, namely, that it is neither a body nor a particular form in a body. Therefore why did Aristotle take up from among the other instances of preparedness this preparedness that is in the intellect, if he did not intend to demonstrate to us the substance of what is prepared rather than the substance of the preparedness? Quite the contrary, it is impossible to say that preparedness is a substance, given what \\e said, namely, that the subject of the pre­ paredness is neither a body nor a power in a body. That which Aristotle's demonstration concludes concerns a different meaning than that the preparation is neither a body nor a power in the body.

2. On the Intellect in Alexandri Aphrodisiensis, Praeter commentaria scripta minor, Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca, ed. I. Bruno supplement, par. I, vol. II, 1 1 2. lG1 6. 3 . See Aristotle, De anima 3.4, 429a 1 8-29. 4. De anima in Alexandri Aphrodisiensis, Praeter com­ mentaria scripta minor, op. cit., 3 . 1 2, 84, 24-8 5, 5.

310

Ibn Rushd (Averroes), I 1 26-- 1 I 98

[ 20] 'This is obvious from Aristotle's demonstration; for the proposition claiming that in any recipient there must be nothing existing in act of the received nature, is made clear from the fact that the substance of what is prepared and its nature lack this predicate [i.e., the predicate that is to be received] insofar as it is pre-­ pared. For the preparedness is not the recipient; rather, the being of the preparedness is through the recipient just as the being of a proper accident is. Thus once there is the reception, there will be no preparedness, but the recipient will remain. This is obvious and un­ derstood by all the commentators on the basis of Aris­ totle's demonstration. [2 1 ] For something that is neither a body nor a power in a body is said in four different ways, one of which is the subject of the intelligibles and is the ma­ terial intellect of whose being it was demonstrated what it is. The second is the preparedness itself exist­ ing in the matter and is close to the way that it is said that privation absolutely is neither a body nor a power in a body. The third is prime matter, whose being was also demonstrated. The fourth is the abstracted forms whose being has also been demonstrated. All of these are different. [22] Trying to avoid the obvious errors, namely, from the aforementioned problems, led Alexander to this improbable interpretation. Yet we see that Alexan­ der is supported in this because the first perfection of the intellect should be a generated power concerning the general words mentioned in the definition of the soul, namely, because it is the first perfection of an or­ ganic natural body. 5 He says that that definition is true of all the parts of the soul in the same sense. He also gives an additional reason to this: since to say that all the parts of the soul are forms either has one meaning or nearly so, and since the form, inasmuch as it is the end of the one having the form, cannot be separated, necessarily, when the first perfections of the soul are forms, they are not separated. By this it is incoherent that there should be a separate perfection among the first perfections of the soul, as is said of the sailor in connection with the ship,6 otherwise in general the 5. See Aristotle, De anima 2, 1 , 41 2a27-28. 6. Compare Aristotle, De anima 2. 1 , 41 3aB-9.

part that is called a "perfection" in some will have a different meaning than the meaning that is said of others. Whereas this is what [Alexander] imagined was obvious from the general statement concerning the soul, Aristotle clearly said that it was not obvious con­ cerning all parts of the soul; for to speak of "form" and "first perfection" is to speak equivocally of the rational soul and the other parts of the soul. [23 ] Abu Bakr [ Ibn Bajja]. if taken literally, how­ ever, seemed to maintain that the material intellect is an imaginative power as what is prepared for this, namely, the intentions, which in it are actually intel­ ligibles, and that no other power is the subject for the intelligibles besides that power. Abu Bakr, however, seemed to maintain this in order to avoid the impos­ sible consequences of Alexander, namely, that the subject receiving the intelligible forms is ( 1 ) a body made of elements, or (2) a power in a body, since con­ sequently, it would be the case either that the being of the forms in the soul would be their being outside of the soul, and so the soul would not be something that can comprehend, or that the intellect would have a corporeal instrument, [but] if the subject for the in­ telligibles were a power in the body, it would be just like the senses. [ 24] Concerning Alexander's opinion, what is more unbelievable is that he said the first [ instances on preparedness for the intelligibles and for the other first perfections of the soul are things made from a combining, not powers made by an extrinsic mover, as is well known from the opinion of Aristotle and all the Peripatetics; for this opinion concerning the com­ prehending po\\·ers of the soul, if we have understood him [correctly] . is false. For a discriminating, com­ prehending power cannot come to be from the sub­ stance and nature of the elements, since if it were possible that such powers were to come from their nature without an extrinsic mover, it would be possi­ ble that the final perfection, which is the [specula­ tive] intellect, would be something that came to be from the substance of their elements, as, for example, color and flavor came to be. This opinion is similar to the opinion of those denying an efficient cause and who accept only material causes, that is, those who maintain chance. Alexander, however, is well above believing this; however, the problem that con-

Long Commentary on 'The Soul" fronted him concerning the material intellect drove hi m to this. [25] 'lberefore, let us return to our [opinion] and y sa that perhaps these problems are what induced Ibn Baj ja to say this regarding the material intellect. How­ ever, what follows from it is obviously impossible; for the imagined intentions move the intellect and are not moved. For it is explained that these whose relation to the discriminating rational power is like the relation of the object of sensation to the one sensing are not like that of the one sensing, who is sensed, to a state. If it were to receive the intelligibles, then the thing would receive itself and the mover would be the thing moved. It has already been explained that it is impossible that the material intellect has an actual form, since its sub­ stance and nature is that it receives forms inasmuch as they are forms. [26] Therefore, all the things that can be said about the nature of the material intellect seem to be impos­ sible besides what Aristotle said, to which there also occurs a number of problems. One of which is that theoretical intelligibles are eternal. The second is the strongest of them, namely, that the final perfection in the human [i.e., the theoretical intellect] is as many in number as the number of individual humans, while the first perfection is numerically one for all . The third is a puzzle of Theophrastus, namely, it is necessary to posit that this intellect has no form, but [it is necessary to posit thatj it is a certain kind of being, otherwise there is nothing in the subject of that for which there is the preparedness and receptivity; for preparedness and receptivity concern that which is not [yet] found in the subject.� Since it is a certain kind of being but does not have the nature of a form, all that remains is that it has the nature of prime matter, which is cer­ tainly unbelievable; for prime matter is neither some­ thing that comprehends nor discriminates. How can it be said about something whose being is such that it is separate [ i .e., capable of independent existence]? [27] Given all of that, then, it seemed good to me to write down what seems to be the case concerning 7. That is, a subject's being prepared for or receptive to,

for example, the form of heat, entails that the form of heat is not already in the subject.

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this. If that which appears to me [true J is not complete, it will be a foundation for what remains to be com­ pleted. Thus, I ask the brothers seeing this work to write down their questions, and perhaps by this [work] the truth concerning this will be found, if I have not yet found it. Ifi have found it, as I imagine, then it will be clarified by means of those [previously mentioned] problems; for the truth, as Aristotle says, agrees with and bears witness to itself in every way. 8 [ 28] 'Ibe [first] problem asks how the theoretical intelligibles are generable and corruptible, whereas their agent and recipient are eternal, and what need is there to posit an Active Intellect and recipient intel­ lect if there were not some generated thing there. This problem would not occur if there were not something else here that is the cause of their being generated the­ oretical intelligibles. [The answer] is simply because those intelligibles are constituted of two things: one of which is generated, the other not generated. What is said about this is according to the course of nature; for since conceptualization through the intellect, as Aris­ totle says,9 is like perception through the senses, and perception through the senses is perfected through two subjects -one of which is the subject through which the sense becomes actual, that is, the object of sensation outside the soul, whereas the other is the subject through which the sense is an existing form, that is, the first perfection of what senses- it is also necessary that the actual intelligibles should have two subjects - one of which is the subject by which they are actual, namely, the forms that are actual images, whereas the second is that by which the intelligibles arc one of the beings in the world, and that is the ma­ terial intellect. There is no difference in this respect behveen the sense and the intellect except that the subject of the sense through which it is actual is out­ side the soul, while the subject of the intellect by which it is actual is within the soul. This is what was said by Aristotle concerning this intellect, as will be seen later. [29] This subject of the intellect, which in what­ ever way is that one's mover, is that which Ibn Bajja 8. See Prior Analytics 1 . 32, 47a5-6. 9. See Aristotle, De anima 3 .4, 429a 1 3-18.

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26-1 1 98

considered to be the recipient, because he found that sometimes it is a potential intellect and sometimes an actual intellect, where this [disposition] is the disposi­ tion of a receiving subject, and he considers [the proposition] convertible. ( 30] This relationship is found more perfectly be­ tween the subject of vision that moves [the faculty of sight] and the subject of the intellect that moves [the intellect] ; for just as the subject of vision, which is color, moves [the faculty of sight] only when through the presence of light it was made actual color after it was in potency, so too the imagined intentions move the material intellect only when the intelligibles are made actual after they were in potency. Because of this it was necessary for Aristotle to posit an Active Intel­ lect, as will be seen later, 10 and it is what draws these intentions from potency into act. Therefore, just as the color that is in potency is not the first perfection of the color that is the perceived intention, rather the subject that is perfected by this color is vision, so too the sub­ ject that is perfected by the intelligible object is not the imagined intentions that are potential intelligibles but is the material intellect that is perfected by the intelli­ gibles, and [the material intellect's] relation to [ the in­ telligibles] is just like the relation of the intentions of color to the faculty of vision. [ 3 1 ] Since all of this is as we have related, it hap­ pens that these actual intelligibles, namely, the theo­ retical intelligibles, are generable and corruptible only on account of the subject through which they are actual ( i.e., the forms that are actual images], not on account of the subject through which they are a kind of being, namely, the material intellect. [ 32] The second problem - namely, how the ma­ terial intellect is numerically one in all the individual humans, being neither generable nor corruptible, while the actual intelligibles existing in it, that is, the theoretical intellect, are as many in number as the number of individual humans, being generable and corruptible through the generation and corruption of the individual [humans ] - is very difficult and has the greatest ambiguity. [ 3 3 ] For if we posit that this material intellect is as many in number as the number of individual humans, 1 0. See Long Commentary on "The Soul," 3 . 1 8, 3 .

i t follows that i t i s a particular, whether a body or a power within a body. Since it would be a particular, it would be an intention intelligible in potency; how­ ever, an intention intelligible in potency is a subject that moves the recipient intellect, not a subject that is moved. Therefore, if the receiving subject were posited to be a particular, it would follow that a thing receives itself, as we said, which is impossible. [ 34] Besides, if we grant that it does receive itself, it would follow that it receives itself as something dis­ tinct, and so the faculty of the intellect would be the same as the faculty of sensation, or there will be no dif­ ference between the being of the forms outside and within the soul; for individual, particular matter does not receive the forms except as a this and as individu­ als. This is one of the things that attest that Aristotle believed that this intellect [i.e., the material intellect] is not an account of an individual. ( 3 5 ] If we posit that [the material intellect] is not as numerous as the number of individuals [i.e., it is one for all humans], it follows that its relation to all the in­ dividuals that come to possess their final perfection in generation would be the same, whence ifa certain one of those individuals acquires some intelligible object, that [intelligible J would be acquired by all of them. Since if the conjunction of those individuals is on ac­ count of the conjunction of the material intellect with them, just as the conjunction of the human with the sensible intention is on account of the conjunction of the first perfection of the faculty of sensation with that which receives sensible intentions- whereas the con­ j unction of the material intellect with all the humans actually existing at some time in their final perfection ought to be the same conjunction, since there is noth­ ing that brings about a difference of the relation of the conjunction between the two conjoined things - ! say if that is so, then when you acquire some intelligible, necessarily I would acquire that intelligible too, which is absurd. [ 36] Regardless of whether you posit that the final perfection generated in every single individual is a sub­ ject of this intellect, namely, [the perfection] through which the material intellect is joined and as a result of which [the material intellect] is like a form separated from its subject with which it is conjoined, supposing there is such a thing, or you posit that it is a perfection

Long Commentary on 'The Soul"

that is either one of the faculties of the soul or one of the faculties of the body, the same absurdity follows. [ 37] Thus it should be believed that if there are things that have souls whose first perfection is a sub­ stance separated from their subjects, as is considered concerning the celestial bodies, it is impossible to find more than one individual under each one of their species. Since if under these, namely, under each species, there were found more than one individual, for example [more than] one body moved by the same mover, then the being [of the additional individuals] would be useless and superfluous, since their motion would be due to a numerically identical thing, as for example, more than one ship is useless for one sailor at the same time, and similarly more than one tool of the very same kind is useless for the artisan. [38] This is the sense of what was said at the be­ ginning of [Aristotle's] On the Heavens and the World, namely, that if there were another world, there would be another celestial body, but if there were another ce­ lestial body, it would have a numerically different mover from the mover of this celestial body. 1 1 Thus, the mover of the celestial body would be material and as many in number as the number of the celestial bod­ ies, namely, because it is impossible that a numerically single mover is [the moverJ oftwo numerically distinct bodies. Hence, the artisan does not use more than one tool when only a single activity is produced by him. It is generally considered that the impossibilities follow­ ing upon this position follow upon that which we are positing, namely, that the dispositional intellect is numerically one. Ibn Bajja had already enumerated many of them in his Conjunction of the Intellect with Man. Consequently, how does one resolve this diffi­ cult problem? [39] Let us say, therefore, that obviously a man does not actually intellect except because of the conjunc­ tion of the actually intelligible with him. It is also ob­ vious that matter and form are mutually joined to one another such that what is composed of them is a sin­ gle thing, and particularly the material intellect and the actual intelligible intention; for what is composed from them is not some third thing different from them,

I I . See Aristotle, On the Heavens 3.8.

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just as is the case with those other things composed of matter and form. Therefore, the conjunction of the in­ telligible with a human is only possible through a con­ junction of one or the other of these two parts with him, namely, the part of it that is like matter and the part of it, namely of the intelligible, that is like form. [40] Since it has been explained from the afore­ mentioned doubts that it is impossible that the intel­ ligible should be joined with every single human and should be as numerous as their number by means of that part of it that is like matter, namely, the material intellect, it remains that the conjunction of the in­ telligibles with us humans is through the conjunc­ tion of the intelligible intention with us, that is, the imagined intentions, namely, the part of them that is in us in some way like a form . Therefore, to say of the child that he potentially intellects can be under­ stood in two ways, one of which is because the imag­ ined forms that are in him are potentially intelligible, whereas the second is because the material intellect that naturally receives the intelligible of these imag­ ined forms is a potential recipient and potentially conjoined with us. [4 1 ] Therefore, it has been explained that the first perfection of the intellect is different from the other first perfections of the soul's other faculties, and that the term "perfection" is said of them in an equivocal manner, contrary to what Alexander thought. Thus, Aristotle said regarding the definition of the soul, that is, a first perfection of a natural organic body, that it is not yet clear whether a body is perfected by all facul­ ties in the same way, or among [the faculties] there is a certain one by which the body is not perfected, and if it is perfected, it will be in some other way. 1 2 [ 42 J The [instances on preparedness of the intelli­ gibles that are in the imaginative faculty are similar to the [instances on preparedness that are in the other powers of the soul, namely, the first perfections of the other faculties of the soul. Accordingly, both types of preparedness are generated and corrupted by the gen­ eration and corruption of the individual and, in gen­ eral, are as numerous as their number.

1 2. The reference appears to be to De anima 2.2, esp. 4 1 3b24-4 14a4.

3 14

Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

� 4 3 j They differ in this respect, namely, that the for­ mer, that is, the preparedness that is in the imagined intentions, is the preparedness in a mover, insofar as it is a mover, whereas the latter is the preparedness in the recipient and is the preparedness that is in the fi rst per­ fection of the other parts of the soul. [44] On account of this similarity between these two types of preparedness, Ibn Bajja thought that there was no preparedness to bring about the intelligible ob­ ject except the preparedness existing in the imagined intentions. These two types of preparedness, though, are as different as heaven and Earth; for one is the pre­ paredness in a mover, insofar as it is a mover, whereas the other is a preparedness in what is moved, insofar as it is what is moved and a recipient. [45 ] Therefore, it should be believed, as had al­ ready been provided to us from Aristotle's discussion, that concerning the soul there are two parts of the in­ tellect, one of which is the recipient, whose being has been explained here, and the other that is the agent, that is, that which makes the intentions that are in the imaginative faculty to be actual movers of the material intellect after they were potential movers, as will later appear from Aristotle's discussion. Also (it should be believed] that these two parts are neither generable nor corruptible, and that the agent [intellect] is to the recipient [intellect] as form is to matter, as will be ex­ plained later. [ 46 j Therefore, Themistius believed that we are the Active Intellect and that the theoretical intellect is nothing other than the conjunction of the Active Intellect with the material intellect. It is not as he thought; rather, it should be believed that in the soul there are three parts of the intellect, one of which is the receiving intellect; the second the efficient intel­ lect; and the third is the caused intellect [i.e., the theoretical intellect] . Two of these three are eternal, namely, the Active and recipient intellects, whereas the third is generable and corruptible in one way but eternal in another. [47] Since on the basis of this discussion we are of the opinion that the material intellect is one for all hu­ mans and also that the human species is eternal, as was explained in another place, it is necessary that the ma­ terial intellect is not stripped of the natural principles common to the entire human species, namely, the pri-

mary propositions and singular concepts common to all; for these intelligibles are one according to the re­ cipient, but many according to the received intention. [48] Therefore, according to the way that they are one, they are necessarily eternal , since being does not flee from the receiving subject, namely, from the mover, which is the intention of the imagined forms, and there is no impediment there on the part of the re­ cipient. Thus, generation and corruption happen to them only owing to the multiplicity following upon them, not owing to the way that they are one. Hence, when with respect to some individual one of the first intelligibles is corrupted through the corruption of its subject through which it is conjoined with us and ac­ tual, then necessarily that intelligible is not corrupt­ ible absolutely; rather, it is corruptible with respect to each individual. In this way we can say that the theo­ retical intellect is one with respect to all [humans]. [49] When these intelligibles are considered as be­ ings absolutely, not with respect to some individual, they are truly said to be eternal, and they are not some­ times intellected, sometimes not, but rather thev are always intellected. Their being is like a mean b�­ tween impermanence and permanence; for they are generable and corruptible insofar as they admit of increase and decrease [in number] as a result of their final perfection, but as they are numerically one, they are eternal. [ 50] This will be the case if it is not assumed that the disposition in the final perfection of the human is like a disposition in the intelligibles common to all [humans], namely, that worldly existence is not stripped from such individual existence; for it is not obvious that this is impossible. :\'ay, one saying this can have a reason that is sufficient and quiets the soul. Since wisdom is in some way proper to humans, just as the arts are in a way proper to humans, it is thought impossible that all habitation should be adverse to philosophy, just as it is believed impossible that it should be adverse to natural arts; for if some part of [the world] , such as the northern quarter, is free of them, namely, the arts, then other quarters would not be without them, since it is clear that habitation is pos­ sible in the southern part just as in the northern. [ 5 1 ] Perhaps, therefore, philosophy is found in the greater portion of a place [i.e., the world] at all times,

Long Commentary on 'The Soul"

just as one human is found [to come] from another and a horse from another. Thus the theoretical intellect is neither generable nor corruptible according to this way. [ 52] In general, just as it is concerning the Acti\-e Intellect that creates the intelligibles, so likewise it is concerning the discriminating [and] receiving intel­ lect; for just as the Active Intellect absolutely never rests from generating and creating-although it ceases to do this, namely, generate a certain subject-such is it concerning the distinguishing intellect. [ 5 3 ] Aristotle indicated this at the beginning of this book, when he said, "To conceptualize through the intellect and to speculate are different such that some­ thing else within is corrupted, whereas [the intellect] in itself has no corruption." 1 3 He intends by "some­ thing else" the human imagined forms. By "to con­ ceptualize through the intellect," he intends the receptivity that is always in the material intellect, con­ cerning which he meant to raise doubts in this [book, namely, Book III] and that book [namely, Book I ] , when h e said, "We d o not remember because that one is not passive, whereas the passive intellect is corrupt­ ible but without this nothing intellects," 14 where he means by "passive intellect" the imaginative faculty, as explained later. In general, this account appeared improbable, namely, that the soul, that is to say the theoretical intellect, is immortal. [ 54] Whence Plato said that the universals are nei­ ther generable nor corruptible and that they exist out­ side of the mind. The account is true in this way [that we have explained], but taken literally is false, which is the way Aristotle worked to refute in the :\�!eta­ physics. In general this account of the soul is the true part in the probable propositions that grant that the soul is both, namely, mortal and immortal; for it is ab­ surd that probable things are wholly false. The an­ cients defended this, and all laws agree in presenting that. [ 5 5 ] The third problem, that is, how the material intellect is some kind ofbeing but is neither one of the material forms nor also is prime matter, is resolved thus. It must be believed that this [ intellect] is a fourth 1 3 . See De anima 1 .4, 408b24-2 5. 14. See De anima ! .4, esp. 408b27-30.

315

genus; for just as the sensible is divided into form and matter, thus the intelligible must be divided into the counterparts of these two, namely, into something like the form and something like the matter. This is nec­ essary in every intelligence separate [from matter] that intellects another, otherwise there would be no multi­ plicity among the separate forms. It has already been explained in First Philosophy 1 ; that the only form free of potentiality absolutely is the First Form that intel­ lects nothing outside of ltself, and indeed Its existence is Its essence, whereas the other forms are in some way distinguished with respect to essence and existence. If there were not this genus of beings that we know with respect to the science of the soul, we could not intel­ lect the multiplicity among things separate [from mat­ ter], just as if we were not to know the nature of the intellect here, we could not intellect that the moving powers separate [from matter] ought to be intellects. [ 56] TI1is has escaped many moderns to the point that they have denied what Aristotle says in the eleventh book [our modern Book 1 2, i.e., LAmbda] of the .\lfetaphysics, that necessarily the separate forms moving the heavenly bodies are as [ many as] the num­ ber of the celestial bodies. Thus, a knowledge of the soul is necessary for a knowledge of First Philosophy. That receiving intellect necessarily intellects the ac­ tual intellect; for since it intellected the material forms, it is more fitting that it intellects the immaterial forms and that which it intellects of the separate forms, for example of the Active Intellect, does not impede its intellecting the material forms. [ 5 7] The proposition claiming that the recipient ought to have nothing in act of that which it receives, however, is not said absolutely but conditionally, namely, it is not necessary that the recipient be alto­ gether something that is not in act; rather, it is not ac­ tually something of that which it receives, as we said before. Indeed, you ought to know that the relation of the Active Intellect to this intellect is the relation of light to the transparent, while the relation of the ma­ terial forms to [the material intellect] is the relation of colors to the transparent; for just as light is the perfec­ tion of the transparent, so the Active Intellect is the

I 5. Cf. Aristotle, .\1etaphysics 1 2.7.

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 126-1 1 98

perfection of the material intellect. Just as the trans­ parent is neither moved by color nor receives it except when it is illuminated, likewise this [material] intel­ lect does not receive the intelligibles that are here un­ less it is perfected and illuminated by this (Active] Intellect. Just as light makes potential color to be ac­ tual such that it can move the transparent, so the Ac­ tive Intellect makes the intentions in potency actually intelligible such that the material intellect receives them. This, therefore, is what one must understand about the material intellect and the Active Intellect. [ 58] When the material intellect is joined (with the Active Intellect] as perfected by the Active Intellect, then we are joined with the Active Intellect. This dis­ position is called "acquisition" and the "acquired in­ tellect," as will be seen later. All the problems entailed by our positing that the intellect is one and many are resolved through the way we have posited the essence of the material intellect. On the one hand, since if the intelligible object in me and in you were one in every way, it would follow that when I know some intelligi­ ble that you also know it, as well as many other im­ possibilities. On the other hand, if we assume that they are many, it follows that the intelligible object in me and in you would be one in species but two in num­ ber, and thus the intelligible object will have an intel­ ligible object, and so on to infinity. So it will be impossible that a student learn from the teacher, un­ less the knowledge that is in the teacher were a power generating and creating the knowledge that is in the student, according to the way that this fire generates another similar to it in species, which is absurd. The fact that what is known is the same in this way in the teacher and in the student made Plato believe that learning was remembering. Thus since we posit that the intelligible object that is in me and in you is many with respect to the subject as what is actual, namely, the imagined forms, while it is one with respect to the subject through which it is an existing intellect, that is, the material intellect, these problems are solved perfectly. ( 59] The manner by which Ibn Bajja thought to re­ solve the puzzles arising about the intellect's being one and many, namely, the way he gave in his Con­ junction of the Intellect with Man, is not a way suited to resolving that problem. For when he worked to re-

solve this problem, the intellect that he demonstrates in that epistle to be one turns out to be different from the intellect that he also demonstrated there to be many, since the intellect that he demonstrated to be one is the Active Intellect inasmuch as it is necessar­ ily the form of the theoretical intellect, whereas the in­ tellect he demonstrated to be many is the theoretical intellect itself. Here, though, the term, namely, "in­ tellect," is used equivocally of the theoretical intellect and the Active Intellect. [60] Thus, if that which is understood concerning the term "intellect" in the two opposing discussions­ namely, one concluding that there are many, the other that the intellect is one - is not equivocal in meaning, then that which he gave afterwards concerning this, namely, that the Active Intellect is one while the the­ oretical intellect is many, does not resolve this prob­ lem. If that which is understood in those two opposing discussions about this term " intellect" equivocates, then the doubt will be sophistical, not a matter of se­ rious dispute, and thus it should be believed that the problems that that man gave in that epistle are not re­ solved except in this way, if those doubts are not so­ phistical but matters of serious dispute. In that way [that we have given ] , the problem about which there is doubt regarding the material intellect, whether it is extrinsic or joined, is resolved. [ . . . ]

Book I II, Comments Text

18

1 8-20

(De anima 3 . 5 , 430a l 4-17).

Therefore it is necessary that there is an intel­ lect in [the soul] that is an intellect insofar as it becomes every thing, and an intellect that is an intellect insofar as it makes it to intellect every thing, and an intellect insofar as it intellects every thing, like a disposition that is like light; for light in a certain way makes potential colors actual colors.16

1 6. It should be noted that in Aristotle's original Greek he mentions only two aspects: ( I ) that which becomes all things, and (2) that which makes the other all things.

Long Commentary on 'The Soul" [ I : Commentary. When these three differences are found necessarily in the part of the soul that is called "intellect," there must be in it the part insofar as it is affected by every manner of likeness and receptivi�r'. Also in it is a second part called "intellect" insofar as it makes this potential intellect to intellect every thing; for the cause through which it makes the potential in­ tellect to intellect all things is nothing other than the reason why it is actual, since this, because it is actual, is the cause such that it actually intellects all things. There is also in it a third part called "intellect" insofar as it makes every potential intelligible to be actual. [2] He said, "Therefore it is necessary [that there is an intellect in the soul that is an intellect insofar as it becomes every thing]," and meant by that the material intellect. This, therefore, is its aforementioned de­ scription. :\ext he said, "and an intellect that is an in­ tellect insofar as it makes it to intellect every thing," and he meant by that that which comes to be, which is in a positive state. The pronoun "it" can be referred to the material intellect, as we said, as well as to the in­ tellecting human. It should be added to the discussion "insofar as it makes it to intellect every thing as a re­ sult of itself and when it wants"; for this is the defini­ tion of a state, namely, that the one having a state understands by means of it that which is proper to him as a result of himself and when he wants without its needing anything extrinsic in relation to this. There­ after he said, "and an intellect insofar as it intellects [every thingj," meaning by this the Active Intellect. Concerning his claim, "it intellects every thing, [and is ] like a certain disposition," he means that it makes every potentiallv intelligible thing actually intelligible after it was potential, as a state and form do. [ 3 ] :\ext he said, "like light; [for light in a certain way makes potential colors actual colors]." :\ow he gives the way according to which one must posit the Active Intellect in the soul. For we cannot say that the relation of the Active Intellect in the soul to the gen­ erated intellect is like the relation of art to the artifact in all ways; for art imposes the form on the entire mat­ ter without anything existing of the form's account be­ ing in the matter before the art makes it. It is not such with respect to the intellect, since if it were such with respect to the intellect, then a human would not need either sense or imagination in grasping intelligibles.

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Quite the contrary, the intelligibles would come from the Active Intellect to the material intellect without the material intellect needing to observe sensible forms. :\or can we say that the imagined intentions alone move the material intellect and draw it out of potency into act, since if that were so, then there would be no difference between the universal and the individual, and thus the intellect would belong to the genus of the imaginative power. Whence, since, as we have posited, the relation of the imagined intentions to the material intellect is like the relation of the sensibles to the senses (as Aristotle later says), 17 it is necessary to posit that there is another mover, who makes [the imagined intentions] move the material intellect into act, which is nothing other than to make them actual intelligibles by abstracting them from matter. [ 4] Because this account, which requires positing an Active Intellect different from the material [intel­ lect] and from the forms of things that the material in­ tellect grasps, is similar to the account by means of which vision needs light, since the agent and recipi­ ent are different from light, he was content to make known this manner [by which the Active Intellect is related to the soul] by this example. It is as though, he says, the manner requiring us to posit an Active Intel­ lect is the same as that by which vision needs light. For just as vision is only moved by colors when they are in act-which is only completed by the presence oflight, since it is [light] itself that draws them from potency into act-so likewise the imagined intentions only move the material intellect when they become intel­ ligible in act, which is only perfected by the presence of something that is an actual intellect. It was neces­ sary to attribute these two acts to the soul in us, namely, to be receptive to the intelligible and to make it (although the agent and recipient are eternal sub­ stances) because these two actions are reduced to our will, namely, to abstract intelligibles and to intellect them. For, on the one hand, "to abstract" is nothing other than to make the imagined intentions actually intelligible after they were potentially [ intelligible], while, on the other hand, "to intellect" is nothing other than to receive these intentions. For since we

1 7. See De anima 3.7-8, 43 l a i4-432a l 4.

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26-1 1 98

found that the same thing, namely, the imagined in­ tentions, is brought in its very being from one order to another, we said that this must be due to an agent and recipient cause. Accordingly, the recipient is the ma­ terial [cause] , and the agent is the efficient [cause) . [ 5 ) When we have found that we act through these two powers of the intellect when we want, and noth­ ing acts except through its form, then it was necessary to attribute to us these two powers of the intellect. The intellect [whose activity J is to abstract and create the intelligible must be prior to the intellect in us [whose activity) is to receive it. Alexander [ofAphrodisias) said that it is more correct to describe the intellect that is in us by its active power not by [its] passive (power), since passivity and receptivity are common to intel­ lects, senses, and discriminating faculties, whereas ac­ tivity is proper to [the intellect] , and it is better that a thing be described by its activity. I say: This would not be necessary in every way unless the term "passivity" were said univocally with respect to them, but in fact it is only said equivocally. [6) All the things said by Aristotle about this are such that the universals have no being outside the soul, which is what Plato maintained, since if they were such, there would be no need to posit an Active Intellect. Text

19

(De anima 3 . 5 , 430a l 7-20).

This intellect is also separate, neither mixed nor passible, and in its own substance it is ac­ tivity. For the agent is always nobler than the patient, and the principle is nobler than the matter. Also actual knowledge is always identi­ cal with its object. [ 1 ] Commentary. Having explained that there is a sec­ ond kind of intellect, that is, the Active Intellect, [Aris­ totle] begins to make a comparison between it and the material [ intellect). He said, "That intellect is also [separate, neither mixed nor passible] ." That is to say, this intellect also is separate, just like the material [in­ tellect], and also is impassible and not mixed, just like that one. When he had related those things that [the Active Intellect] has in common with the material intellect, he gave the disposition proper to the Active

Intellect, and said, "in its substance it is activity," that is, in it there is no potency for something like the po­ tency to receive forms that is in the receiving intellect; for the Active Intellect intellects nothing as a result of those things that are here [below] . It was necessary that the Active Intellect be separate and impassible and not mixed insofar as it actualizes all intelligible forms. If therefore it were mixed, it would not make all forms. [We saw that] the material intellect, which insofar as it actualizes all intelligible forms receives all forms, was necessarily separate and not mixed too (since if it were not separate, it would have this particular form and then one of two [possibilities] would be necessary: either ( 1 ) it would receive itself, in which case the mover in it would be what is moved, or (2) it would not receive all the species of forms). In the same way, if the Active Intellect were mixed with matter, it would necessarily either intellect and create itself or it would not create all forms. Thus, what is the difference be­ tween these two demonstrations on close inspection of them? They are very similar. It is amazing how every­ one concedes that this demonstration is true, namely, the demonstration concerning the Active Intellect, but does not agree with respect to the demonstration concerning the material intellect, even though they are very similar so that it is necessary for one who con­ cedes the one to concede the other. We can know that the material intellect must be unmixed from its judg­ ing and comprehending; for since we judge through [the material intellect] itself an infinite number of things in relation to a universal proposition, but clearly the judging faculties of the soul, that is, individual : faculties j mixed [with the body] , judge only a finite [number of] intentions, it follows from the conversion of the opposite that that which does not judge [only j a finite [number] of intentions must not be a faculty of the soul mixed [with body] . When we have added to this that the material intellect judges an infinite [ num­ ber of] things not acquired by sensation and that it does not judge [only] a finite [number of] intentions, it follows that it is not a power mixed [with body ] . Ibn Bajja, however, seems to concede that this proposition is true in the Epistle of l:arewell, namely, that the fac­ ulty through which, by means of a universal judg­ ment, we judge is infinite, but he thought that this power is the Active Intellect, if we take his words there

Long Commentary on "The Soul" at face value. It is not so; for judgment and discrimi­ nation are not attributed to us save on account of the material intellect. Ibn Srna certainly used this propo­ sition, and it is true in itself. [2] Having related that the Active Intellect is dif­ ferent from the material intellect in this respect that the agent is always pure activity, whereas the material [intellect] is either [active or passive] because of the things that are here, he gave the final cause with re­ spect to this and said, "For the agent is always nobler than the patient." That is to say, the former in its sub­ stance is always activity, whereas the latter is found in either disposition. It has already been explained that the relation of the Active Intellect to the patient intel­ lect is just like the relation of the principle that in some way produces motion to the moved matter. The agent, however, is always nobler than the patient, and the principle is nobler than the matter. Therefore, ac­ cording to Aristotle it should be believed that the last of the separate intellects in the order is this material intellect; for its activity is less than their activities, since its activity seems to be more a passivity than an activity. It is only in this sense that the [material] in­ tellect differs from the Active Intellect, not because of anything else. Since just as we know that there is a multitude of separate intellects only on account of the diversity of their activities, so also we know the differ­ ence between that material intellect and the Active Intellect only on account of the diversity of their ac­ tivities. Just as it happens to the Active Intellect to sometimes act on things existing here and sometimes not, so also it happens to the [material intellect] to sometimes judge things existing here and sometimes not; but they differ only in this respect, namely, that the judgment is something at the apex of the perfec­ tion of the one who judges, whereas the activity is not in that way at the apex of the perfection of the agent. Therefore, consider this: that there is a difference be­ tween these two intellects, and if it were not this, there would be no difference between them. (0 Alexander, if Aristotle were to believe that the term "material in­ tellect" signifies nothing but a preparedness, then how could he have made this comparison between it and the Active Intellect, namely, in providing those things with respect to which they agree and those things with respect to which they differ?)

3 19

[ 3 ] Thereafter, [Aristotle] said, "Also actual knowl­ edge is always identical with its object," and indicated, so I think, something proper to the Active Intellect in which it differs from the material [intellect], namely, that in the Active Intellect actual knowledge is the same as the object known, but it is not so in the mate­ rial intellect, since [the material intellect's] intelligi­ ble is not things that are in themselves an intellect. Having explained that [the Active Intellect's] sub­ stance is its activity, he gives the cause concerning this, which follows next. Text 20 (De anima 3 . 5 , 430a20-2 5). What is in potency is temporally prior in the individual; however, absolutely it is not, not even temporally. It is not sometimes intellect­ ing and sometimes not intellecting. When sep­ arated, it is what it is alone, and this alone is forever immortal. We do not remember, be­ cause this one is impassible, whereas the intel­ lect that is passible is corruptible. Without this nothing is intellected. [ 1 ] Commentary. This passage can be understood in three ways: one of which is according to the opinion of Alexander [of Aphrodisias] ; the second according to the opinion of Themistius and other commenta­ tors; and the third according to the opinion that we have related, which is the most literal. According to the opinion of Alexander, it can be understood that [Aristotle] meant the potential intellect to be a pre­ paredness existing in the human composite, namely, that a potential and preparedness in the human to receive the intelligible in respect to every single indi­ vidual is temporally prior to the Active Intellect; how­ ever, absolutely the Active Intellect is prior. When he said, "It is not sometimes intellecting and sometimes not intellecting," he means the Active Intellect. When he said, "When separated, it is what it is alone, not mortal," he means that this Intellect, when it is joined to us and by means of which we intellect other beings insofar as it is a form for us, then this alone among the parts of the intellect is immortal. :\ext he said, "We do not remember, [because this one is impassible, whereas the intellect that is passible is

320

Ibn Rushd (Averroes), I 1 26-- 1 1 98

corruptible. Without this nothing is understood] ." This is a problem about the Active Intellect insofar as it is joined with us and by means of it we intellect; for someone can say that when we intellect by means of something eternal, necessarily by means of this we in­ tellect after death just as before. [Alexander] said in response that intellect is joined with us only through the mediation of the being of the generable and cor­ ruptible material intellect in us, but since this intel­ lect is corrupted in us, we do not remember. There­ fore Alexander might understand this passage in this way, although we have not seen his commentary on this passage. [2] Themistius, on the other hand, understands by "potential intellect" the separate material intellect whose being has been demonstrated. By the intellect of which [Aristotle] made a comparison with this one, [Themistius J intends the Active Intellect insofar as it is conjoined with the potential intellect, which in fact is the theoretical intellect on [Themistius'] view. When he said, "It is not sometimes intellecting and some­ times not intellecting," he understands the Active In­ tellect as what does not touch the material intellect. When he said, "When separated, it is what it is alone, not mortal," he meant the Active Intellect insofar as it is a form for the material intellect, this is the theoreti­ cal intellect in his view. That problem, namely, when he said, "We do not remember," concerns the Active Intellect insofar as it touches the material intellect, that is, it [ concerns J the theoretical intellect; for he says that it is improbable that this doubt [raised] by Aristotle concerns the intellect except as the Active Intellect is a form for us. For he said that by assuming that the Active Intellect is eternal, whereas the theo­ retical intellect is not, this question does not follow, namely, why we do not remember after death what we intellect in life. It is just as he said; for to assume that that problem is about the Active Intellect insofar as it is acquired, as Alexander says, is improbable. For the knowledge existing in us in a state of acquisition is said equivocally in connection with knowledge ex­ isting by nature and knowledge existing by instruc­ tion. Therefore, this question, so it seems, concerns only the knowledge existing by nature; for this ques­ tion is impossible if it is not about the eternal cogni-

tion existing in us, whether by nahue, as Themistius says, or by the intellect18 acquired last. Thus, since Themistius believes that this problem is about the the­ oretical intellect, but the beginning of Aristotle's dis­ cussion concerns the Active Intellect, [Themistiusl therefore believed that the theoretical intellect is fo� Aristotle the Active [Intellect] insofar as it touches the material intellect. [ 3 ] In support of all this there is what [Aristotle] said in the first chapter about the theoretical intellect; 1 9 for there [Aristotle] raised the same question as here and resolved it with the same answer. He said in the first book: "The intellect appears to be a certain substance existing in itself and does not seem to be corrupted. Since if it were corrupted, then this would be greater with the weariness of old age." Afterwards he gave the way by means of which it is possible that the intellect is incorruptible, while [the activity ofj intellecting in itself will be corruptible. He said, 'To conceptualize by the intellect and to speculate are different, such that something else within is corrupted, whereas in it­ self it has no such occurrence; however, discriminat­ ing and loving are not of l the intellect's] being, but of that one which has this, inasmuch as it has it. Thus also, since that one is corrupted, we neither remem­ ber nor love."20 Therefore, Themistius says that [Aris­ totle's] account in that chapter in which he said, "The intellect, however, seems to be a certain substance ex­ isting in the thing and not corrupted," is the same as that about which he spoke here: "When separated, it is what it is alone, forever immortal." What he said here, "We do not remember, because this one is im­ passible, whereas the intellect that is passible is cor­ ruptible and without this nothing is intellected," is the same as that which he said there, namely, "To con­ ceptualize by the intellect and to speculate are differ­ ent . . ." Because of this [Themistius] says that here [Aristotle] intended by "passive intellect" a concupis­ cent part of the soul; for that part seems to have a cer-

1 8. Intellectum might alternatively be understood as "in­ telligible." 19. De anima 1 .4. 20. De anima 1 .4, 408b24-28.

Long Commentary on ''The Soul" tain rationality, since it listens to that part that looks to the rational soul. [4] Since we think that Alexander's and Themis­ tius' opinions are impossible, and we find that Aristo­ tle's literal account is according to our interpretation, we believe that Aristotle's opinion is the one we have stated, and it is true in itself. Since his words in this passage are clear, it is explained thus. When he said, '1'his intellect is also separate, impassible and not mixed," he is speaking of the Active Intellect. We can­ not say otherwise, but this particle "also" indicates that another intellect is impassible and not mixed. Simi­ larly, the comparison between them is obviously be­ tween the Active Intellect and the material intellect inasmuch as the material intellect has in common with the Active [ Intellect] many of these dispositions. In this Themistius agrees with us and Alexander dif­ fers from us. [ 5 ] When [Aristotle] said, "What is in potency is temporally prior in the individual," it can be under­ stood in the same way by the three opinions. For ac­ cording to Themistius' and our opinion, the potential intellect is conjoined with us prior to the Active In­ tellect, while according to Alexander the potential in­ tellect will be prior in us according to being or generation but not conjunction. When he said, "However, absolutely it is not, not even temporally," he speaks of the potential intellect. Since when it is received absolutely, not with respect to an individual, then it will not be prior to the Active Intellect in some manner of priority, but posterior to it in every way. This account agrees with either opinion, namely, saying that the potential intellect is generable or not generable. When he said, "It is not sometimes intel­ lecting and sometimes not," it is impossible that that statement be understood according to its obvious [sense] or according to either Themistius or Alexan­ der, since this phrase "it is," when he said, "It is not sometimes intellecting and sometimes not," refers back to the Active Intellect according to them. But Themistius, as we said, is of the opinion that the Ac­ tive Intellect is the theoretical intellect insofar as it touches the material intellect, whereas Alexander is of the opinion that the dispositional intellect, that is, the theoretical intellect, is different from the Active

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Intellect. The latter ought to b e believed; for the art is different from the thing made by the art, and the agent is different from the activity. According to what appears to us, however, that statement is according to its obvious [sense], that is, the phrase "it is" will be re-­ lated to the closest antecedent, namely, the material intellect when taken absolutely, not with respect to an individual . For it does not happen to the intellect, which is called "material," according to what we said, that it sometimes intellects and sometimes does not, except in relation to the imagined forms existing in each individual, not in relation to the species; for ex­ ample, it does not happen to it that it sometimes in­ tellects the intelligible "horse" and sometimes does not, except in relation to Socrates and Plato, whereas absolutely and in relation to the [human] species it al­ ways intellects this universal, unless the human species as a whole were to pass away, which is impos­ sible. The advantage of this account will be that it is according to [the text's] obvious [sense] . When he said, "However, absolutely it is not, not even tempo­ rally," he means that the potential intellect- not \\·hen it is taken in relation to some individual, but ab­ solutely and in relation to any individual - is not found at certain times intellecting and at certain times not, but it is always found intellecting, just as the Active Intellect-when it was not taken with re-­ spect to some individual- is not found sometimes in­ tellecting and sometimes not but is always found intellecting when taken absolutely; for the manner of the two intellects' actions is the same. Accordingly, when he said, "When separated, it is what it is alone, immortal," he means: when it is separated in this way, from this way only is it immortal, not in the [way] it is taken with respect to the individual. [In light of this j , his statement in which he says, "We do not remember, etc." will be according to its obvious �sense] ; for against this opinion the problem arises perfectly. For he asks: Since the common intelligi­ bles are neither generated nor corrupted on this account, why after death do we not remember the knowledge had in this life' It is answered: Because memory comes through the passive perceiving facul­ ties. "Ibere are three faculties that are described in On Sense and Sensibilia, namely, imagination, cognition,

322

Ibn Rushd (Averroes), I 1 26-- 1 1 98

and memory.21 Those three faculties are in the hu­ man in order to present the form of an imagined thing when the sensation is absent. Thus, it was said there that since these three faculties mutually help one an­ other, they might represent the individual thing as it is in its being, although we are not sensing it. Here he intended by "passive intelligible" the forms of imagi­ nation inasmuch as the cognitive faculty proper to the human acts on them; for this faculty is a certain ra­ tionality, and its action is nothing other than to place the intention of the form of the imagination with its individual in the memory or to distinguish the [ in­ tention] from the [ individual] in the form-bearing [ faculty] and imagination. Clearly the intellect that is called "material" receives the imagined intentions af­ ter this [activity on distinguishing. Thus, this passive faculty is necessarily in the form-bearing [faculty]. Hence, he correctly said, "We do not remember, be­ cause this one is impassible, whereas the intellect that is passible is corruptible. Without this it intellects nothing." That is to say, without the imaginative and cognitive faculty the intellect that is called "material" intellects nothing; for these faculties are like things that prepare the material of the art to receive the ac­ tivity of the art. This, then, is one interpretation. [ 6] It can also be interpreted in another way, which is that when he said, "it is not sometimes intellecting and sometimes not," he means: when [the material in­ tellect] is not taken insofar as it intellects and is in­ formed by generable and corruptible material forms, but is taken absolutely and as what intellects separate forms free from matter, then it is not found sometimes intellecting and sometimes not. Instead, it is found in the same form, for example, in the way in which [the material intellect] intellects the Active Intellect, whose relation to it is, as we have said, like that of light to the transparent; for having explained that this po­ tential intellect is eternal and naturally perfected by material forms, it ought to be believed that it is wor­ thier when it is naturally perfected by nonmaterial forms that are in themselves intelligible. However, it is not initially joined with us as a result of this way, but

2 1 . The reference in fact does not appear to be to Aris­ totle's On Sense and Sensibilia, but to his On Memory 1 .

later when the generation o f the dispositional intellect is perfected, as we will explain later. According to this interpretation, when he said, "When separated, it is what it is alone," he is indicating the material intellect insofar as it is perfected by the Active Intellect when it is joined with us in this way, and so is separated and perhaps indicates the material intellect in its first con­ junction with us, namely, the conjunction that is by nature. [Aristotle] adopts [this view] by [using] this particle "alone," indicating the corruption of the dis­ positional intellect from the perspective of which it is corruptible. [7] Generally, when someone considers closely the material intellect together with the Active Intel­ lect, they appear to be two in one way but one in an­ other way. They are two through the diversity of their activity- since the activity of the Active Intellect is to generate, whereas the former's is to be informed ­ whereas they are one because the material intellect is perfected by the Active Intellect and intellects it. For this reason we say that the intellect is conjoined with us, appearing in it two powers, one of which is active while the other belongs to the genus of passive powers. Alexander nicely likened that to fire; for fire naturally alters every body through the power existing in it, yet nonetheless together with this it is acted upon in what­ ever way by that which it alters, namely, it is likened to it in a certain sense of similarity, that is, it acquires from it a lesser fiery form through the fiery form [ caus­ ing] the alteration. 22 For this disposition is very similar to the disposition of the Active Intellect in connection with the passive intellect and the intellect that it generates; for it makes these things in one way, but re­ ceives them in another way. Accordingly, the state­ ment in which he said, "We do not remember, etc." is a solution to the question that made the ancient com­ mentators believe that the dispositional intellect is eternal, and made Alexander believe that the material intellect is generable and corruptible concerning which it was said: How are the things understood by us not eternal, given that the intellect and recipient

22. In Alexander's De intellectu 1 1 1 . 19ff., he says that fire consumes matter but is also nourished by the matter and so is acted on insofar as it is nourished.

Long Commentary on 'The Soul" are eternal? It is as if he says in response that the cause of this is because the material intellect intellects noth­ ing without the passive intellect, even though there is both the agent and recipient, just as there is no per­ ception of colors, even though there is both light and vision, unless there is the colored object. Thus, ac­ cording to whichever of these interpretations it is said, it will be literal, agreeing with Aristotle's words and his dem onstrations without any contradiction or depar­ ture from the obvious sense of his discussion. [8] Equivocal terms are thus used correctly in a doctrine only if they, although diverse [in meaning], nonetheless agree in all the things ( intentio ma'nci) of which they can be said. That to which [Aristotle] re­ ferred in another translation in place of his saying, "be­ cause this one is impassible. whereas the intellect that is passible is corruptible," demonstrates that here he intended by "passive intellect" the human imaginative faculty; for he says in that [other] translation: "That which led us to say that this intellect neither alters nor is acted upon is that the imagination is a passive intel­ lect and is corrupted, but the intellect does not per­ ceive and understand anything without imagination." Therefore, this term "intellect" accordingly is said in this book in four ways: it is said of the material intel­ lect, the dispositional intellect, the Active Intellect, and the imaginative faculty. You should know that there is no difference according to the interpretation ofThemistius and the ancient commentators and the opinion of Plato in this respect, that the intelligibles existing in us are eternal and that to learn is remem­ bering. Plato says that these intelligibles are sometimes in us, sometimes not, because the subject is some­ times prepared to receive them, sometimes not, but they in themselves are after we receive [them j just as before [we receive them], and just as they are outside the soul so are they also within the soul. [9] Themistius, ho\\ ever, says that this, namely, that [the intelligibles in us] are sometimes joined, sometimes not, happens to them because of the nature of the recipient; for he is of the opinion that the Active Intellect is not naturally conjoined with us at first ex­ cept insofar as it touches the material intellect. Thus, on the basis of this, deficiency happens to it, since con­ junction with the intentions of the imagination is in one way like receptivity and in another way like activ=

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ity. Thus, the intelligibles are in it in a disposition dif­ ferent from its being in the Active Intellect. The pre­ sumption in understanding this opinion is that the reason moving Aristotle to posit that there is a material intellect is not because there is a created intellect here. Quite the contrary, the reason for this is either because ( 1 ) when the intellects that are in us are found to be according to dispositions incompatible with sim­ ple intellects, it is said that that intellect that is in us is composed of that which is in act, namely, the Active Intellect, and that which is in potency; or because (2) its conjunction, according to this opinion, is similar to generation and, as it were, it is made similar to the agent and the patient, namely in its conjunction with the intentions of the imagination. Therefore, accord­ ing to this opinion the agent, patient, and effect are the same, and it is indicated by these three states through the diversity that happens to it. [ 1 0 ] We, however, are of the opinion that [nothing] moved [Aristotle] to posit the Active Intellect except for the fact that the theoretical intelligibles are gener­ ated according to the manner that we mentioned. Thus consider this closely, since there is a difference between the three opinions, namely Plato's, Themis­ tius', and our opinion. On Themistius' interpretation there is no need of these intelligibles if not for posit­ ing the material intellect alone or the material intel­ lect and the Active Intellect according to the way of similarity; for where there is no true generation, there is no agent. We agree with Alexander in the way of positing the Active Intellect, but we differ from him with respect to the nature of the material intellect. We differ from Themistius with respect to the nature of the dispositional intellect and in the manner of posit­ ing the Active Intellect. Also in a certain way we agree with Alexander with respect to the nature of the dis­ positional intellect, but in another way we disagree. Therefore, these are the three differences by which the opinions attributed to Aristotle are divided. You ought to know that use and training are the causes of that which appears concerning the power of the Active Intellect that is in us to abstract and the [power on the material intellect to receive. They are, I say, causes be­ cause of the state existing through use and training in the passive and corruptible intellect, which Aristotle calls "passive," and he openly said that it is corrupted.

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

Otherwise, it would happen that the power in us mak­ ing the intelligibles would be material and likewise a passive power. Thus, on this issue no one can think by this [line of reasoning] that the material intellect is mixed with the body; for what is said by one who be­ l ieves that [the material intellect] is mixed [with the body] in response to this discussion [of ours] concern­ ing the Active Intellect, we will say in response [ to what he says] concerning the material intellect. It is by means of this intellect, which Aristotle calls "passive," that humans differ with respect to the four virtues mentioned in the Topics, which al-Farabi enumerates

in the [Sophistical] Refutations. 2' By means of this in­ tellect man differs from other animals, otherwise it would then be necessary for there to be the conjunc­ tion of Active Intellect and the recipient intellect with [other] animals in the same way. Certainly the opera­ tive intellect differs from the theoretical [intellect] through the diversity of preparedness existing in this intellect. These things having been shown, let us re­ turn to our [text] . 2 3 . The reference appears to be to O n Sophistical Refu. tations 2, and al-Farabf's zal-Amkina al-mughlita.

2 8 . The Incoherence of "The Incoherence" Al-Ghazali says: The refutation [of the argu­ ment for the eternity of the world from the im­ possibility of a temporal event's proceeding from an absolute, unchanging, eternal will] comes from two fronts: The first of them is to ask, "By what means would you [philosophers J censure one who says, 'The world is temporally created by means of an eternal will that made necessary [the world's J existence at the moment at which it came to exist; [the world's J nonexistence con­ tinued to the limit up to which it continued, and the existence began from whence it began; be­ fore the existence it was not something willed and so owing to that was not created, but at the moment at which it was created, it was willed by the eternal will and so owing to that was cre­ ated' "? What precludes this belief and would render it absurd? [ I ] I say: This is a sophistical claim, namely, since he cannot maintain that the delay of the effect is possible From Classical Arabic Philosophy, tr. Jon :\1cGinnis and David C. Reisman (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Com­ pany, 2007). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

after the agent's action. When his resolve to act is as a voluntary agent, then one can maintain that the delay of [the act] and the effect is possible after the agent's willing, but its delay is not possible after the action of the agent, and the same holds for the delay of the ac­ tion after the resolve to act is in the willing agent. So the same problem remains. [Al-Ghazali] is necessar­ ily faced with only one of two options: either ( I ) the agent's act does not necessitate a change in the agent, in which case it would require some external cause of the change; or (2) some changes are self-changed, not needing some cause of change that is associated with them, and some changes can be associated with the Eternal without a cause of change. In other words, there are two things that the opponents [of al-Ghazali: firmly hold here, one of which is that change entails the activity of the agent and that every change has a cause of change; the second principle is that the Eter­ nal does not undergo change in any kind of way, all of which is difficult to prove. [2] That of which the Ash'arites1 are not at liberty is either to grant a First Agent or to grant that It has a

I . That is, the theological group to which al-Ghazalf belonged.

The Incoherence of"The Incoherence" first [temporal] act, because they cannot posit that the Agent's state with respect to the temporal effect at the time of the act is the same state as at the time of the act's absence. So in this case there must be a new state or some relation that had not been. That [new state or previously nonexisting relation] necessarily is either in the agent or in the effect or in both of them. Consequently, when we require that every new state has an agent, then inevitably the agent of that new state is either one or other of the following. It might be ( I ) another agent, in which case the former agent is neither the first nor sufficient in itself for its act but needs another. Or it might be (2) the agent itself that actualizes that state that is a condition for its acting, in which case the former act, which was assumed to be the first [act] to proceed from it, is not the first, but rather its act of actualizing that state that is a condition for the effect is before its act of actualizing the effect. This, as you see, is what necessarily follows. (The only exception is where one allows that among the tempo­ ral states in agents there can be what does not need a temporal creator, which would not even be an option if it were not for those who allow that certain things are temporally created spontaneously-which was a position of the ancients who denied the agent- but that it is baseless is self-evident.) [ 3] In this objection there is confusion between "eternal will" and "temporal will," which are equivo­ cal terms, indeed even contrary; for the will that is in personal experience is a power in which there is a pos­ sibility to perform one of two opposites equally, and the possibility of [the will's] being susceptible to two objects of will is still equal (for the will is the desire of the agent to act). When it performs its acts, the desire ceases, and the object of desires comes to be. So when it is said here that one of two opposites is willed eternally, then, by transferring the nature of willing from possibility to necessity, the definition of will­ ing is eliminated, even when it is said that an eternal willing was not eliminated by the presence of the ob­ ject of will. When [the willing] has no first [moment] , then one moment is neither delimited from another nor designated for it to bring about the object of will. Still, we say that demonstration leads to the exis­ tence of an Agent with a power that is neither voli­ tional nor natural, but which the Divine Law terms

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"will," just a s demonstration led to things that are in­ termediary between things that at first sight are sup­ posed to be contradictories but are not contradictories, as, for example, our saying that there exists something that is neither internal nor external to the world [i.e., God]. [ ] [4] [The argument that if the world were eternal, then the number of rotations of the planets and stars would be infinite and some infinite rotations would be greater and others smaller], arises when you imagine two motions consisting of rotations between two given extremes of one [and the same] time, and then you imagine at one time a smaller part of each one of the two between two given extremes, so that the propor­ tion of part to part is the proportion of whole to whole. For example, when the rotation of Saturn during a period of time called a year is one-thirteenth of the Sun's rotation in that period, then when you imagine the whole of the Sun's rotations [in proportion] to the whole of Saturn's rotations occurring during one and the same time, inevitably the proportion of all of the rotations of one motion to all of the rotations of the other motion is the proportion of part to part. [ 5] When there is no proportion between the two motions considered as wholly complete because each of them is potential, that is, they have no beginning but are infinite, whereas there is a proportion between the parts because each one of [the parts] is actual, then it does not necessarily follow that the proportion of whole to whole tracks the proportion of part to part, as their proof concerning the claim supposes. [That] is because no proportion exists between two magnitudes or extents, each one of which is posited to be infinite. Thus, since the ancients posited, for instance, that the whole of the Sun's motion has no starting point but is infinite, and likewise for Saturn's motion, there simply is no relation between the two, because from [such a relation] it would necessarily follow that the two wholes are finite, as must be the case concerning the two parts of the whole. This is clear in itself. [ 6] [Al-Ghazalr's] account imagines that when the proportion of parts to parts is the proportion of the greater to the lesser, then it is necessary for the two wholes that the proportion of one of the two to the other is the proportion of the greater to the lesser. This is necessary only when the two wholes are finite, but .

.

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 126-- 1 1 98

in the case when they are not finite, there is no greater or lesser. When one supposes that here there is a pro­ portion that is the proportion of the greater to the lesser, then one will imagine that some other absurd­ ity necessarily results from that, namely, that what is infinite might be greater than what is infinite. This is an absurdity only when one takes there to be two things that are actually infinite, because in that case the proportion between them would exist, whereas when one takes [them] to be potentially [infinite ] , there i s n o proportion. So this i s the answer t o this puz­ zle, not the answer provided on behalf of the philoso­ phers by ai-Ghazalr. In this way all of their puzzles mentioned in this section are resolved. [7] The most difficult of all of them is the one that they habitually vent, namely, that when the motions that have occurred in the past are infinite, then no mo­ tion could exist as a result of them in the present, right here, unless an infinite number of motions before it had already terminated. (This is true and acknowl­ edged by the philosophers, if the prior motion is sup­ posed to be a condition for the existence of the later.) In other words, [the objection runs] whenever one of [the motions] necessarily exists, then an infinite num­ ber of causes before it would necessarily exist. Not a single true philosopher, however, allows the existence of an infinite number of causes, as the materialist al­ lows, because a necessary result of [an infinite number of causes] would be an effect's existing without a cause and a moved thing's existing without a mover. [8 j Yet since demonstration has led some people to a principle that is an Eternal \tlover Whose existence has neither beginning nor end and Whose action must not be delayed after Its existence, it follows necessar­ ily that Its act, just l ike the state concerning Its exis­ tence, has no beginning. If that were not the case, Its act would be possible, not necessary, and so It would not have been a First Principle. So the acts of the Agent Whose existence has no beginning must them­ selves have no beginning just as the state with respect to Its existence. Consequently, it must necessarily fol­ low that one of Its first acts is not a condition for the second, because no one of them essentially actualizes [another] ; that one of them should be before another is [only] accidental.

[9] The [philosophers]. however, have allowed a certain accidental, though not essential, infinite. In fact, this kind of infinite is something necessary that is a consequence of a First, Eternal Principle's existence. That is the case not only with respect to successive or continuous motions, but also with respect to things about which it is supposed that the prior is a cause of the posterior, such as the human who reproduces a human like himself. That is to say, that the temporal creation of some determinate human by another human must go back to a First, Eternal Agent Whose existence has no beginning and [likewise J Whose bringing about one human from another has no [be­ ginning]. So one human's resulting from another infinitely is accidental, whereas the beforeness and af­ terness are essential. In other words, just as there is no beginning for the acts performed without an instru­ ment by the Agent whose existence has no beginning, so likewise there is no beginning for the instrument by which [the agent] performs its acts that are character­ istically [performed] by an instrument when those [acts] have no beginning. 2 Since the speculative the­ ologians believe that what was accidental was in fact essential, they reject its existence. The solution to their argument was difficult, and they erroneously sup­ posed that their proof was necessary. [ l 0] This was evident among the discussion of the philosophers; for their first master, namely, Aristotle, had clearly explained that if a motion were [ ulti­ mately] owing to motion, then the motion would not exist; and if an element were [ultimately] owing to el­ ement, then the element would not exist. 3 This man­ ner of infinite, in their view, neither has a beginning nor is finite. Thus, that [an actual infinite series j has 2. Although Ibn Rushd's prose is cumbersome, the point is clear. When an Eternal Agent performs an eternal act by means of some tool, then that tool must also be eter­ nal. In the case of the procreation of humans, the Eter­ nal Agent creates a human, using an earlier human as its tools for this act. Consequently, since the Agent is eter­ nally creating humans, using them as its tools for this act, human as a species must also be eternal. 3. See Aristotle, Physics 8. 1 , 2 5 l a2 3-b ! O.

The Incoherence of"The Incoherence" terminated and entered into existence does not apply to anything pertaining to [an accidental infinite], not even past time, because whatever has terminated had a beginning, and whatever did not have a beginning has not terminated. That is also evident from the fact that beginning and ending are related. Thus, whoever claims that the rotations of the celestial spheres are in­ finite in the future need not suppose they have a be­ ginning, because what has a beginning has an end, and what does not have an end does not have a be­ ginning. The same holds concerning the first and the last: what has a first has a last, and what does not have a first does not have a last. �ow what does not have a last, then, in fact has neither a certain part where it ter­ minates nor a certain part where it begins, and what does not have a given part where it begins does not have a termination. Thus, when the speculative the­ ologians ask the philosopher, "Where has the motion that is before the present terminated?" [the philoso­ phers'] response is that it has not terminated, because from the [philosophers'] supposition that it does not have a first, it does not have a termination. So the the­ ologians' delusion that the philosophers concede the termination of [the rotations of the celestial spheres] is not true, because in the [philosophers'] view they would not terminate unless they began. So it has be­ come clear to you concerning the proof cited among the theologians about the temporal creation of the world that it does not sufficiently attain the level of cer­ tainty and reach the ranks of demonstration. Also the proof that is introduced and cited from the philoso­ phers in [ al-Ghazali's Incoherence J is not worthy of the ranks of demonstration, which is what we intended to show about this work. 'The best answer to whoever asks about [ the First Agent's] acts going into the past is to say, "Its acts going into [the past] arc like Its existence going [into the past] ," because neither of them has a beginning. [ l I ] As for al-Ghazali's response on behalf of the philosophers to rebut the proof that some of the ce­ lestial motions are faster than others and the response to it, here is his text: [The philosophers] might say that the locus of the error is in your claim that [the heavenly

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rotations j are a whole composed of units; for these rotations are nonexistents. [They are J ei­ ther past, and so they no longer exist, or future, and so they do not yet exist. In general, [the whole] indicates presently existing things, but in this case there is nothing existing [such as to be a whole] . Thereafter in opposition to this he said: We say that number divides into the even and odd, and it is impossible that what is numbered should lie outside of [this division], regardless whether it is something that continues to exist or perishes. So when we posit a number of horses, we must believe that [the number] is either even or odd, regardless of whether we suppose [the horses] as existing or nonexisting. If they cease to exist after existing, this proposi­ tion does not change. This is the end of his account. [ 1 2 ] This account applies only to what has a be­ ginning and end, whether outside the soul or in it, I mean that intellects judge it to be even and odd, whether currently existing or not. As for whatever ex­ ists potentially, that is, having neither a beginning nor an end, neither being even nor odd, or beginning or terminating, or going into the past or into the future applies to it. [That] is because what is in potency has the status of something nonexistent, which is what the philosophers intended by saying that the rotations that were in the past and future arc nonexistent. The gist of this question is that whatever is described as a delimited whole, possessing a beginning and end, is so described as having a beginning and end, whether it is outside of the soul or not. As long as some whole of it is actual and something delimited in the past, it is in the soul and outside of it, and so is necessarily either odd or even. As long as the whole of it is not delimited outside of the soul, then it is not delimited except insofar as it is in the soul (because the soul cannot conceptualize what is infinite in existence), and so from this perspective [namely, within the soul] it also is described as odd or even. Inasmuch as it is

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Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

outside of the soul, however, it simply is not de­ scribed as being either odd or even, and the same holds for whatever is in the past. �ow it was supposed that it is in potency outside the soul, that is, it has no beginning. So it is not described as being either odd or even, unless it is supposed that it is actual, I mean, that it consists of a beginning and end. A whole or en­ tirety (I mean, possessing a beginning and end) be­ longs to whatever pertains to the motions only insofar as they are in the soul, just like the case concerning time and rotation, but in their nature they necessar­ ily are neither odd nor even, save insofar as they are in the soul.4 [ 1 3 ] The cause of this error is that when something with a certain description is in the soul, it is imagined that it exists outside of the soul with that very descrip­ tion. Since anything that occurred in the past is only conceptualized in the soul as finite, it is erroneously supposed that the nature of whatever occurred in the past is thus outside of the soul, [namely, that it is finite as well]. Since the conceptualization of whatever will occur in the future is designated as infinite, in that one conceptualizes one part after another, Plato and the Ash 'a rites believed that future celestial rotations could be infinite, but all of this is a judgment based on imag­ ination not demonstration. Thus, whoever supposes that the world has a beginning would have held more firmly to his principle and better preserved his suppo­ sition to suppose that it has an end, as many of the the­ ologians had done . . . . [ 1 4] . . . To suppose a numerical multiplicity of im­ material souls is not acknowledged by [the philoso­ phers ] . because the cause of numerical multiplicity in their view is the matter, while the cause of the sim­ ilarity in numerically many things is the form. That numerically many things should exist as one in form without matter is absurd. That is [because] an indi­ vidual is distinguished by some attribute or other only

4. Ibn Rushd's point is that motion considered as a whole or entirety, that is, considered as having a spatial or tem­ poral extension, exists only in the soul. \Vhat exists in the world is merely an object at some discrete spatial point at some given moment, not something that exists as actually extending across space and time.

accidentally, since someone else might have that at­ tribute in common with him. Only on the part of the matter is one individual distinct from another. \1ore­ over, the denial of an infinite as something actually ex­ isting, regardless of whether they are bodies or not, is a principle universally accepted by [the philosophers] . We do not know anyone who drew a distinction be­ tween having a position and not having a position in this sense, except Ibn Srna. ; As for everyone else, I know of no one who has maintained this position. It simply does not fit with any of their principles. So [an actual infinite] is a fiction, because [the philosophers] deny the existence of an actual infinite, whether a body or not, since it would necessarily result that one infinite is greater than another. Perhaps Ibn Srna in­ tended it only to satisfy the masses concerning what they regularly hear about the soul. It is, however, hardly a satisfying account; for if things were actually infinite, then the part would be like the whole, I mean, when what is infinite is divided into two parts. For ex­ ample, if a line or number were actually infinite at both of its extremes, and moreover it were divided into two portions, then each one of its portions would be actually infinite, but the whole was also infinite. So the whole and the part would be infinite because each one of them is actual, which is impossible. All of this necessarily follows only when an actual infinite is posited, not a potential. [ 1 5] . . . Zayd is numerically different from 'Amr, but he and 'Amr are one in form, that is, the soul. So if the soul of Zayd, for instance, were numerically dif­ ferent from the soul of 'Amr in the same way that Zayd is numerically different from 'Amr, then Zayd's and 'Amr's souls would be numerically two [ but] one in form, in which case the soul would have a soul. There­ fore, it is necessary that Zayd's and 'Amr's souls are one in form, whereas numerical multiplicity, I mean being divided among the individuals, is associated with what is one in form only by the matters. So if the soul does not perish when the body perishes or there is some­ thing in it with this description [i.e., being imperish­ able], then, when it separated from the bodies, it must

5. The reference is to The Salvation, 4.2. 1 1 , "On the Fi­ nite and the Infinite," not translated here.

The Incoherence of 'The Incoherence" be numerically one. There is no way to divulge this knowledge in this place.6 [ 16] The account that [al-Ghazali] used to refute Plato's teaching is sophistical. That is [because] the gist of it is that Zayd's soul is either the very same soul as 'Amr's soul or it is different from it; however, it is not the very same as 'Amr's soul, and so it is different from it. "Different" is an equivocal term, just as "he" is said of many things that are said to be different. So the soul ofZayd and 'Amr are one in one respect but many in another, as if you �aid "one" with respect to form [and] "many" with respect to what bears [the form] . [ 1 7 ] H is claim that divisibility is conceptualized only in what has quantity is partially false. That is be­ cause this is true with respect to what is essentially divisible, but not true with respect to what is acciden­ tally divisible, I mean, what is divisible from the fact that it is in what is essentially divisible. What is divisi­ ble essentially is, for instance, the body, whereas what is divisible accidentally is like the whiteness that is in bodies, which is divided by the bodies' being divided. Likewise, forms and the soul are accidentally divisible, namely, by their substrate's being divided. The soul is something resembling light, and just as light is divided by the division of the illuminated bodies and then is united when the bodies are absent, so likewise is the case with respect to the soul together with bodies. [ 1 8 ] His putting forth the likes of these sophistical claims is obscene, for one would think that the above would not escape his notice. He intended that only to dupe the people of his time, but it is incompatible with the character of those striving to reveal the truth. Perhaps the man is to be excused by taking into ac­ count his time and place, and that he was testing in his works. [ . . . j Then it was said: If [the philosopher] asks by what means would you deny one who refrains from invoking ne­ cessity and proves [the impossibility of an eter­ nal will's temporally creating the world] in another way, namely, that moments of time are 6. Ibn Rushd provides the arguments for this position in Selection 27.

3 29

indiscernible with respect to the possibility that the will has a preference for [one ofj them [over the others] . So what is it that distinguished one determinate moment of time from what was be­ fore or after it, when it is not absurd that what is willed should be earlier and later? [ 1 9 ] The main point of what [ al-Ghazali] related in this section on behalf of the philosophers in order to prove that a temporal event cannot result from an Eternal Agent is that in that case there could not be a will. This rebuff would arise against [the philosophers] only by their conceding to their opponent that all op­ posites are similar in relation to the Eternal Will, whether [the opposites] concern time (such as the prior and posterior) or are found in contrary qualities (such as white and black), and likewise that nonexis­ tence and existence are, in their view, similar in rela­ tion to the First Will. After they concede this premise to their opponent (although they do not accept it), [the opponents] say to them that the will could not selec­ tively determine to do one of two similar things as op­ posed to the other except by some specific property and cause that exists in one of the two similar things but not in the other. If this is not the case, then the one of the two similar things that occurs as a result [of the will] is by chance. So, it is as if for the sake of argu­ ment the philosophers conceded to [their opponent] that if a will were to belong to the Eternal, then it would be possible for a temporal event to proceed from an eternal. Since the theologians are unable to an­ swer, they resorted to saying that the Eternal Will is an attribute that can distinguish one thing from its like without there being a specific property that selectively determines doing one of the two similar things from its counterpart, just as heat is an attribute that can warm and knowledge is an attribute that can compre­ hend the object of knowledge. Their opponents, the philosophers, said to them: This is something absurd whose occurrence is inconceivable, because vis-a-vis the one who wills, his acting will not have a preference for one of the two equally similar things to the exclu­ sion of the other unless it is with respect to whatever it is that is not similar about them, I mean, with respect to an attribute that is in one of them but not in the other. When the two are similar in every respect and

330

Ibn Rushd (Averroes), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

there is no specific property at all, then the will prefers both equally. :\ow when [the will's] preference is equal, where [the will] is the cause of acting, then the preference to do one of them is no more fitting than its preference for the other, and so it prefers to do ei­ ther two contrary things simultaneously or neither one of them at all, but both cases are impossible. [20] So for the sake of the initial argument, it is as if [the philosophers] conceded to [their opponents] that all things are similar in relation to the First Agent, and [ their opponents then] foisted on them as a nec­ essary conclusion that there would be a specific prop­ erty that was prior to [the First Agent] , which is absurd. So when the [opponents] respond that the will is an at­ tribute that can distinguish like from its l ike inasmuch as it is like, [the philosophers] rebutted that this is in­ conceivable and unintelligible concerning the mean­ ing of "will," and so it is as if [ the philosophers] have denied to [their opponents] the principle that they had conceded. This is the sum of what this section con­ tained. It shifts the discussion from the initial question to the discussion of the will, but shifting [the subject of discussion] is a sophistical ploy. [ 2 1 ] . . . The gist of [ ai..Chazalf's next] rebuttal con­ sists of two positions. The first is that he concedes that the will in personal experience [i.e., the human will] is that which cannot distinguish something from its like inasmuch as it is like, but that intellectual proof demands the existence of an attribute in the First Agent that can do this. To believe erroneously that an attribute's existing in this condition is impossible is like erroneously believing that nothing exists that is neither internal nor external to the world. On the ba­ sis of this, then, the will attributed to the [ First] Agent ( may He be praised) and to man is an equivocal term, just as is the case concerning the term "knowledge" and the other attributes whose existence in the Eter­ nal is different from their existence in the temporal. It is only by Divine Law that we call [this attribute] "will." This rebuff has obviously sunk to such levels that it is dialectical, because the demonstration that would have led to establishing an attribute with this state, I mean that it specifies that one thing exists in­ stead of another, would posit precisely that the objects of will are similar, but they are not similar. Quite the contrary, they are opposites, since all opposites, every

one of them, can be traced back to existence and nonexistence, and these are at the limit of opposition, which is the contradictory of similarity. So their sup­ position that the things that the will prefers are simila r [i.e., existence over nonexistence] is a false supposi­ tion, and the account of it will follow later. [22] If they say: "We claim only that they are simi­ lar in relation to the First One Who wills, since It is pure and free of wishes, whereas wishes are what ac­ tually specify one thing from its like." We say: The wishes by whose fulfillment the one who wills is him­ self perfected (such as our own wishes by which our will prefers things) are impossible for God (may He be exalted ! ) . [That] is because the will whose nature is this, then desires completion vis..J-vis the deficiency existing in the very one who wills. As for wishes that are for the sake of the willed thing itself, :\o! [The First Willer is not free of such wishes], because from the willed thing, the one who wills acquires nothing that it did not have; rather, only the willed thing acquires that. An example would be something's emergence from nonexistence to existence; for undoubtedly exis­ tence is more excellent than nonexistence, I mean, for the thing emerging. This latter is the state of the First Will in relation to existing things; for it has always cho­ sen for them the most excellent of the two opposites, and that essentially and primarily. This is one of the two sorts of rebuttal to which this account is liable. [23 j The second rebuttal [ of al..Chazali] does not concede the absence of this attribute from the will in personal experience [i.e., the human will] but wants to establish that [ even] we have in the presence of sim­ ilar things a will that distinguishes something from its l ike. He provides the following exdmple: Assume that immediately in front of a man there are two dates sim­ ilar in every respect, and suppose that he cannot take both together, and further it is not imagined that in one of the two there is some selectively determining feature. Certainly the man will inevitably distinguish one of the two by taking [it] . [ 24] This is mistaken; for when one assumes a sit­ uation with this description and posits one who wills whom necessity has prevailed upon to eat or take the date, then his taking one of the two dates in this case is not to distinguish like from like. It is only to give up the like in exchange for its like. So whichever of the

The Incoherence o{ 'The Incoherence" two he took, what he willed was attained, and for him his wish was complete. His will, then, preferred only to disti nguish between taking one of them and not tak­ ing any at all, not between taking one and distin­ guishing between it and not taking the other (I mean, when you assume that the wishes for the two are in­ discernible). In this case, he does not have a predilec­ tion for taking one of them over the other; he has a predilection only for taking one of them, whichever it happened to be, and selectively determining it over not taking [at all ] . This is clear in itself; for to distin­ guish one of them from the other is to selectively de­ termine one of them over the other, whereas one cannot selectively determine one of two like things from its counterpart inasmuch as it is like. Now if the two in their existence as individuals are not alike (be­ cause one of any two individuals is different from the other by an attribute proper to it), then if we assume that the will preferred the unique [ individuating] fac­ tor (rna 'na) of one of them, then the will's seizing upon one of them to the exclusion of the other is con­ ceivable owing to the presence of the difference-mak­ ing [attribute] found in them. Therefore, the will did not prefer two similar things from the perspective that they are similar. [25] This is the sense of the first way to oppose [the eternity of the world] that [al-ChazalT] mentioned. [ . . . ] [26] [ Concerning al-Ghazali's second objection, that the philosophers must admit that the temporal proceeds from the eternal, otherwise an infinite causal regress would ensue], I say: If the philosophers were to have introduced the Eternal Existent into existence from the temporal existence according to the manner of proof [given by al-ChazaiT], that is, if they were to suppose that the temporal as temporal proceeds only from an eternal, then they would have no other alter­ native but to extricate themselves from the suspicion concerning this problem. However, you should know that the philosophers do allow the existence of one temporal event [to proceed] from another accidentally to infinity when that, as something repeated in a lim­ ited and finite matter, is on the following model, [namely,] that the corruption of one oftwo corruptible things is a condition for the existence of the other. For example, in the view of [the philosophers] it is re­ quired that the generation of one human from another

33 1

is conditional on the corruption of the prior human such that he becomes the matter from which the third human is generated. For instance, we imagine two hu­ mans of whom the first produced the second from the matter of a human who has suffered corruption, and then after the second himself becomes a human, the first human suffers corruption, and so from the matter of [the first human] the second human produces a third human. Thereafter the second human suffers corruption, and so from his matter the third human produces a fourth human. Indeed, we can imagine the action going on infinitely in two matters without any absurdity appearing in that, provided that the agent continues to remain. So if the existence of this agent has neither beginning nor end, then the existence of this action will have neither beginning nor end, just as was explained above. The same happens concerning two that are imagined in the past, I mean, when there is a human, then before him there was a human who produced him and a human who suffered corruption, and before that human there was a human who pro­ duced him and a human who suffered corruption. [27] In other words, when whatever has this char­ acteristic is dependent upon an Eternal Agent, then it is of a cyclical nature in which [all of its potentially in­ finite members] cannot be [actual] . But if from an in­ finite number of matters one human were to result from another or could be increased infinitely, then there would be an impossibility. [That isJ because i t would b e possible for a n infinite matter t o exist, and so it would be possible for an infinite whole to exist, since if a finite whole existed that were increased infinitely without any of it suffering corruption, then it would be possible for an infinite whole to exist. This is something the Philosopher [ i.e., Aristotle] explained in Physics. 7 [28] Thus, the way in which the ancients intro­ duced an unchanging Eternal Existent is not at all in the way that temporal events exist from It inasmuch as they are temporal; rather, they are eternal insofar as they are eternal in genus. The truth in their view is that this infinite process must result from an Eternal Agent. Because the temporal itself necessarily results only from a temporal cause, there are two ways by which

7. See Aristotle, Physics

n.

3 32

Ibn Rushd (Avenues), 1 1 26-- 1 1 98

the ancients introduced into existence an Eternal Ex­ istent, one in number, Who is unsusceptible to any sort of change. The first was that they fully understood that this cyclical existence is eternal, namely, they fully understood that the generation of the present in­ dividual is a corruption of what was before it. Likewise, they fully understood that the corruption of the one that was corrupted is a generation of what is after it So necessarily this eternal change results from an Eternal \1over and something eternally moved that does not change with respect to its substance but only with re­ spect to place through its parts, that is, its proximity and remoteness to some of the generated things. In that case, that [change with respect to place] is a cause of the corruption of what is corruptible from among them and the generation of what is generable. This ce­ lestial body exists without changing except with re­ spect to place8 but not with respect to any other sort of change. So it is a cause of temporal events owing to its temporal actions, whereas owing to its having the con­ tinuation of these actions, I mean that they do not have a beginning or an end, it results from a cause that does not have either a beginning or an end. [29] The second way by which [the ancients] in­ troduced a wholly incorporeal and immaterial Eternal Existent is that they found that all the kinds of motion go back to motion with respect to place,9 and that mo­ tion with respect to place goes back to something that is itself moved by a First \1over that is in no way moved, either essentially or accidentally, otherwise an infinite number of moved movers would exist simul­ taneously, which is impossible. 1 0 This First \1over, then, must be eternal, otherwise It would not be first. Consequently, every existing motion goes back to this \1over essentially, not accidentally, where [an "es­ sential mover"] is that which exists simultaneous with any moved thing at the time that it is moved. As for one mover's being before another, as for example one 8. Afna, lit. "where," i.e., the category of"where" (pou) from Aristotle's Categories, which is one of the three cat­ egories in which motion can occur. The other two are the categories of quantity and quality. 9. Cf. Aristotle, Physics 8.7, 260a26-b J ; _ 1 0. Ibid., 8_;_

human reproduces another, that is accidental, not es­ sential. As for the mover who is a condition for the ex­ istence of the human from the beginning of [the human's] coming to be to the end - indeed, from the beginning of his existence to the end of his existence ­ it is this [First] \1over. Likewise, Its existence is a con­ dition for the existence of all existing things as well as a condition for the conservation of the heavens and Earth and whatever is between them. :\one of this is explained here demonstratively but by assertions that are akin to [ al-Chazali's] but are more satisfying than the opponents' assertions for whoever is impartial. [ 3 0 ] If this is clear to you, then I have dispensed with disentangling that by which ai-Chazall disentan­ gles the opponents of the philosophers in order to turn the objections against them on this problem; for the ways he disentangles them are feeble. [That] is be­ cause when he is not clear on the way by which [the ancients] introduced an Eternal Existent into exis­ tence, then he will not be clear on the way they dis­ entangled the existence of the temporal from the eternal. That, as we said, is through the intermediary of what is eternal in its substance, being generated and corrupted with respect to its particular motions, not with respect to the universal rotation; or it is through the intermediary of the actions, being eternal in genus, that is, it does not have either a beginning or an end. [ 3 1 ] :\ext al-Chazali responds on behalf of the philosophers, saying: It might be said, "We do not find a temporal event's proceeding from an eternal improbable. What we in fact find improbable is that a first temporal event should proceed from an eternal, since there is no difference between the verv moment of the creation and what was before it with respect to selectively determining the as­ pect of existence, which does not [differ] inas­ much as it is a present moment, an instrument, a condition, a nature, a wish, or any other cause. When the event is not the first, it is permitted that it proceeds from [an eternal] when there is the creation of some other thing, such as the preparedness of the receiving substrate and the presence of the fitting moment, and whatever is analogous to this.

The Incoherence o( "The Incoherence"

After al-Ghazalr conveys this answer on their be­ half, he responds to them saying: We say that the problem concerning the occur­ rence of the preparedness, the presence of the moment, and whatever is renewed, still stands: either there is an infinite causal regress or it ter­ minates in an eternal from which the first tem­ poral event results.

[32] I say: this question is the one he asked them at the beginning, and this manner of forcing [ them to ad­ mit] that the temporal proceeds from the eternal is the one that he [already tried] to foist upon them. Since he answers on their behalf with a response that does not correspond with the question, namely, permitting a temporal event that is not a first temporal event to re­ sult from an eternal, he turns the question on them a second time. The answer to this question is what was given before, namely, the way that the temporal pro­ ceeds from the First Eternal is not by what is temporal; rather, it is by what is eternal from the perspective that it is eternal in genus, being temporal through the parts. In other words, in the view of [ the philosophers] , if some temporal event in itself proceeds from any eter­ nal agent, then [that agent, e.g., the celestial body,] is not the First Eternal in their view, but they believe that its action is dependent on the First Eternal. I mean that the presence of the condition of the action of the eter­ nal, which is not the First [Eternal] , depends upon the First Eternal according to the way that what temporally creates depends upon the First Eternal, namely, the dependence that is in the whole [i.e., in genus] , not in the parts [ i.e., in the individual members of the genus] . [ 3 3 ] :\"ext h e offers a response o n behalf o f the philosophers by representing a partial conception of their position, the sense of which is that the temporal is conceived to result from the eternal only by means of a rotation that is similar to the eternal, owing to its having neither beginning nor end, while it is similar to the temporal in that any part of it that is imagined is generated and corrupted. So this motion, through the temporal creation of its parts, is a principle of tern-

333

poral e\ents, but through the eternity of its totality it is an action of the eternal. [ 34] Thereafter he rebuffed this manner by which the temporal proceeds from the First Eternal accord­ ing to the position of the philosophers, saying to them: The rotation that is the basis [of all temporal events; is either temporal or eternal. If it is eter­ nal, then how does it become a principle for the first temporal events? !fit is temporal, then it de­ pends on another temporal event, and there will be an [infinite j causal chain. You maintain that in one respect it is similar to the eternal and in another respect it is similar to the temporal; for it is permanent [and ] renewed, that is, it is per­ manently renewed and renewed permanently. But voe ask, "Is it a principle of temporal events insofar as it is permanent, or insofar as it is re­ newed?" If it is insofar as it is permanent, then how is it that something [that exists] at some mo­ ments and not others proceeds from something permanent that has similar states? If it is insofar as it is renewed, then what is the cause of its re­ newal in itself? It would need another cause, and there would be an [infinite] causal chain. [ 3 ; ] This is the sense of his account, and it is so­ phistical; for the temporal does not proceed from [the rotation] from the perspective that it is permanent. [The temporal] proceeds from [the eternal rotation] only inasmuch as [the rotation] is renewed. If it is not [so considered], then from the perspective that [the ro­ tation's] renev;a) is not something temporally created, it does not need a renewing temporal cause but is only an eternal act, that is, it has neither a beginning nor end. :\"ecessarily, then, the agent of [ this eternal act] is an Eternal Agent, because the eternal act is owing to an Eternal Agent whereas the temporal is owing to a temporal agent. Only from the sense of the eternal in the motion is it understood that it has neither a be­ ginning nor an end, namely, that which is understood concerning its permanence; for motion is not perma­ nent, but is only something that changes.

JEWISH PHILOSOPHY

Medieval Jewish philosophy may be described as the explication of Jewish beliefs and practices by means of philosophical concepts and norms. Somewhat more rigorously, its subject matter is divisible into three parts. As interpretation of Jewish tradition, medieval Jewish philosophy manifests a special interest in such indigenously Jewish doctrines as the election of lsrael, the prophecy of Moses, the Law (Torah) and its eter­ nity, and Jewish conceptions of the Messiah and the afterlife. As religious philosophy, it investigates those philosophical notions that have a special bearing on issues common to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, such as the existence of God, His attributes, creation, providence, prophecy, and general principles of hu­ man conduct. Finally, as philosophy, it studies topics that are primarily of philosophical interest, such as the structure of logical arguments, the division of being, and the constitution of the world. Because of these var­ ied interests, medieval Jewish philosophy must be seen as part of the history of philosophy at large, no less than as a development of the biblical-rabbinic tradi­ tion on which Judaism rests. Whereas the biblical and rabbinic writings devel­ oped within the Jewish community, Jewish philoso­ phy flourished whenever Jewish thinkers participated in the philosophical speculations of an outside cul­ ture. Jewish philosophy arose for the first time in the

Diaspora community of the Hellenistic world, where, from the second century B.C. until the middle of the first century A.D., Jewish thinkers produced a philo­ sophical literature in Greek. The foremost member of this group was Philo Judaeus (c.25 B.C.-c.40 A.D.), who in a series of works, largely commentaries on bib­ lical topics, undertook to harmonize Jewish with Pla­ tonic and Stoic teachings. H. A. Wolfson, the eminent historian of medieval thought, considers Philo the founder of religious philosophy in Juc1aism, Christi­ anity, and Islam. Though Philo influenced Fathers of the Christian Church, he found no direct successors among the Jews. Jewish philosophy lay dormant until it flour­ ished once again as part of a general cultural revival in the Islamic east (see page 2 1 8) . From the early tenth century until the early thirteenth, Jewish philosophers living in Muslim lands produced a varied philosophi­ cal literature in Arabic. Saadia Gaon (882-942), head of the rabbinical academy at Sura (near Bagdad), was the first major Jewish philosopher on the Islamic scene. Using and adapting the teachings of the Mu'tazilite branch of the Muslim dialectical theologians, the Mutakallimun (see page 2 1 6), Saadia fashioned what has been called a Jewish Kalam. In true Kalamic fashion, he selected Divine unity and justice as the two major subjects of

3 36

Jewish Philosophy

the Book of Doctrines and Beliefs, and Kalamic proofs for the creation of the world have a prominent place within the work. As the .\1uslim .\1utakallimun, he has a greater interest in the philosophical solutions of scriptural difficulties than in independent philosoph­ ical speculations. Kalamic teachings influenced later Jewish philoso­ phers, but Saadia was to remain the major representa­ tive of this school of thought. Already in his own days Jewish philosophy turned in a neoplatonic direction. Under the influence of such works as the Theology of Aristotle (see page 2 1 6), Jewish ;\eoplatonists investi­ gated how the world emanated from God and how man, through philosophical speculations, can return to Him. But in accordance with their religious beliefs, Jewish ;\eoplatonists described God as a being having attributes of personality who created the world by an act of will, rather than as an impersonal principle who pro­ duced the world out of the necessity of its own nature. The first Jewish ;\eoplatonist was Isaac ben Solo­ mon Israeli (c. 8 5 5-c.9 5 5 ) , Saadia's somewhat older contemporary. Author of medical treatises and philo­ sophical works, Israeli was known among philoso­ phers for his Book ofDefinitions and Book ofElements. In their Latin translations, these two works were cited by Christian philosophers from the twelfth century on. But by far the most important Jewish :\'eoplaton­ ist was Solomon ibn Gabirol (c. I 022-c. I 0 5 1 or 1 070), who in the Latin world was known as Avicebrol, Avice­ bron, and Avencebrol. With him, the setting ofJewish philosophy became Spain in the Islamic west. In his Fountain ofLife Gabirol defended the distinctive doc­ trine that spiritual as well as corporeal substances are composed of matter and form. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries this principle was widely debated by Christian scholastics who possessed a complete Latin translation of Gabirol's work. The eleventh and twelfth centuries produced two Jewish philosophers who, virtually unknown in the outside world, enjoyed great popularity among their own people for the less technical and more pietistic nature of their views. Bahya ibn Pakuda of Saragossa (end of the eleventh century) wrote a much-read eth­ ical work, Guidebook to the Duties of the Heart, in which he describes ten spiritual qualities, presenting at the same time directions for how they may be at-

tained. Judah Halevi (c. l 08 5-c. l l 4 l ), who in his an­ tiphilosophic views shows some similarity to al-GhazalT (see page 265), composed Kuzari as an apologia for the Jewish faith. Abraham bar H iyya, the first to write philosophy in Hebrew, and Joseph ibn Zaddik, a ;\eo­ platonist (both early twelfth century), are two addi­ tional philosophers that should be mentioned. In the second half of the twelfth century, Jewish philosophy, under the influence ofAlfarabi (al-FarabT), Avicenna (ibn STna), and Avempace (Ibn Bajja) (see page 2 1 8), entered its Aristotelian phase . .\1edieval Jewish Aristotelianism began with Abraham ibn Daud (c. l l l 0-c. l l 80 or 1 1 90), whose Exalted Faith - a work containing an extensive critique of Gabirol's views­ discussed a number of Aristotelian physical and meta­ physical topics and their relation to Jewish religious thought. But Jewish Aristotelianism reached its climax with .\1oses .\1aimonides ( 1 1 3 5- 1 204), who became the overtowering figure of medieval Jewish thought. .\1aimonides first presented a more popular exposition of his philosophical views within his various legal works, proceeding to a more technical account in The Guide of the Perplexed. Addressing students of philos­ ophy who had become vexed by the literal sense of certain scriptural passages, .\1aimonides shows that scriptural teachings, properly interpreted, are in har­ mony with philosophical truths. In a Latin translation, .\1aimonides' Guide was read and cited by Christian scholastics of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. After .\1aimonides the setting of Jewish philosophy shifted to Christian lands - Christian Spain, southern France, and Ita!�· becoming the new centers. As a re­ sult, the knowledge of Arabic among the Jews de­ clined and Hebrew became the language of Jewish philosophy. Works originally written in Arabic were now translated into Hebrew. Among the newly trans­ lated works, the commentaries ofAverroes (Ibn Rushd) ( 1 1 26--1 1 98) (see page 285) were of great importance, for, under their influence, Jewish philosophy turned into a more rigorously Aristotelian direction. At the same time, divergences between the strict Aristotelian­ ism of Ibn Rushd and the more moderate views of .\1aimonides formed the subject matter of new inves­ tigations . .\1aimonides' Guide gave rise to many com­ mentaries, the most important commentators being Shem Tob Falkera (d. 1 290), Joseph Kaspi ( 1 279-

Jewish Philosophy

c. I 340), and :\!loses of :\arbonne (d. after 1 362). Dur­ ing the second half of the thirteenth century, Hillel of Verona used Thomistic arguments to attack the Aver­ roistic doctrine of the unity of the intellect in his Re­ wards of the Soul, while, by contrast, Isaac Albalag developed a doctrine of the double truth. The most important post-:\ll a imonidean Jewish Aristotelian was Levi ben Gershom - also called Ger­ sonides- astronomer, biblical exegete, and commen­ tator on Ibn Rushd. In his major work, The Wars ofthe Lord, he investigated, in true scholastic fashion, pro!r !ems that :\llaimonides had not discussed sufficiently or that he had not resolved to Gersonides' satisfaction. When :\ll a imonides and Ibn Rushd differ, Gersonides often sides with the latter philosopher. Gersonides dif­ fers from :\lla imonides in holding that God is thought thinking itself, that He can be described by positive attributes, that creation can be demonstrated, and that the world was created out of an eternally existing un­ formed matter. :\ll oreover, Gersonides' stricter Aris­ totelianism ::arne to the fore when he taught that God knows the world only insofar as it is subject to general laws and that miracles are caused by the Active Intel­ lect rather than by God Himself. As Aristotelianism spread among the Jews, opposi­ tion to it did not lag far behind. But not until Basdai Crescas ( c. l 340- 1 4 1 0) wrote his Light of the Lord did someone undertake a systematic critique of the Aris­ totelian physical and metaphysical teachings. Deny­ ing the Aristotelian principle that an infinite can only exist in potentiality, Crescas affirms the actual exis-

3 37

tence of infinite magnitude, of infinite space, and of an infinite series of causes and effects. The affirmation of the latter principle brought Crescas to reject the Aristotelian proofs for the existence of God as first mover and first cause, since these proofs rest on the proposition that it is impossible that an actually infi­ nite series of causes and effects should exist. However, Crescas retained the proof that shows that God is a be­ ing necessary through Himself. Crescas also took issue with the Aristotelians in holding that goodness rather than wisdom is the primary attribute of God and in emphasizing that God created the world through love and will. The primacy of love became decisive in Crescas' philosophy of man, for man attains his ulti­ mate happiness by loving God rather than by specu­ lating about Him. Though Crescas was to remain the last major Jew­ ish philosopher of the :\!Iiddle Ages, philosophical speculations among Jews continued after his time. In Spain, Jewish philosophers were at work until the expulsion of the Jews in 1492, while in Italy Jewish philosophy continued into the sixteenth century. Among Jewish philosophers of late medieval times, Simon ben Z:emab Duran ( 1 361-1444), Joseph Albo (d. 1 444 ) , Isaac Abrabanel ( 1437-1 509), and Elijah Delmedigo (c. 1460- 1493) should be mentioned. In the selections that follow, Saadia serves as a rep­ resentative of the :\llutakallimiin, Ibn Gabirol stands for the :\eoplatonist, \1aimonides and Gersonides ex­ emplify two kinds of Aristotelianism, and Crescas il­ lustrates the critique of Aristotelianism.

Saadia, 882-942 Saadia ben Joseph is generally considered the father of medieval Jewish philosophy, and his Book of Doctrines and Beliefs (Kitab a/- 'Amiiniit wa-al-1 'tiqadat, Sefer ha-Emunot we-ha-De 'ot) the first major medieval philosophical work written by a Jew. In his philosoph­ ical teachings Saadia bases himself on the doctrines of the �uslim dialectical theologians, the Mutakallimiin, in particular on the doctrines of their rationalist branch, the �u'tazilites (see page 2 1 6). Adopting, modifying, and supplementing �u'tazilite teachings and basing himself on H ebrew rather than Islamic Scripture and tradition, he fashioned what has been called a Jewish Kalam. As the �utakallimiin in general and the Mu'tazi­ lites in particular, Saadia occupied himself with the philosophical analysis of certain scriptural problems rather than with the construction of a philosophical or theological system in the manner of the :\eoplatonists and Aristotelians. To accomplish this task, he drew freely on Platonic, Aristotelian, Stoic, and neoplatonic teachings, and this method imposed a certain eclectic character on his work. Saadia was indebted to the �u'tazilites not only for a number of their doctrines, but also for the structure of his book. Following them, he divided his Book of Doctrines and Beliefs into two major sections, one de­ voted to a discussion of Divine unity, the other devoted to an account of Divine justice. �oreover, in true �u'tazilite fashion, Saadia begins his book with what has become one of the distinctive Kalamic contribu­ tions to medieval philosophy at large- proofs for the creation of the world. In the Islamic east of Saadia's time, Jews, Chris­ tians, �uslims, and Zoroastrians, as well as the mem338

bers o f a variety o f philosophical schools freely taught their doctrines, attempting at the same time to refute opinions that were at variance with their own. This di­ versity of teachings produced, according to Saadia's own testimony, false opinions, doubts, and even out­ right skepticism among his fellow Jews. To remove the confusions of his contemporaries and to transform them from men who believed on the basis of scriptural authority alone into men who could support their be­ liefs with philosophical arguments became the twofold goal of Saadia's major work. Taking account of the skeptical temper of his times, Saadia begins his Book of Doctrines and Beliefs with an Introduction in which he investigates the sources of doubt and what knowledge is worthy of belief. Re­ producing the standard arguments of the skeptics taken from the unreliability of sense perception and the uncertainty of human knowledge, he shows that correct observation, careful analysis, and proper logi­ cal method can produce knowledge that can be trusted. Having met the objections of the skeptics, he defines "belief' and then discusses three sources of truth that make it possible to distinguish true from false beliefs. According to him, these sources are sense perception, self-evident fi rst principles, and inferential knowledge. To these three sources, Saadia adds "reliable tradition" as a fourth. Based on historical evidence, "reliable tra­ dition" guarantees the veracity of Scripture and of the rabbinic teachings. Saadia begins the book proper with four proofs de­ signed to demonstrate the creation of the world. In setting down these proofs, he differs from later philoso­ phers, such as �aimonides and Aquinas, who hold that to demonstrate creation lies outside the compe-

Saadia, 882-942 tence of the human mind. According to Saadia, an ad­ equate doctrine of creation affirms creation in time, the difference between the creator and the world that He created, and creation out of nothing. Since proofs for creation lead to the existence of the creator, they are, at the same time, proofs for the existence of God. In his treatise on creation, Saadia exhibits his erudition and breadth oflearning by presenting and at­ tempting to refute twelve cosmogonic and cosmolog­ ical theories that are at variance with his own. Al l of these theories seem to have been defended by con­ temporaries, and they range from doctrines that ac­ cept creation but deny that the world was created out of nothing to outright skeptical doctrines that deny the validity of all knowledge, sense perception included. The central section of the discussion of God is a treatise devoted to Divine unity. In it Saadia investi­ gates how God can be said to be one, both in the sense of being unique and simple, and how, at the same time, a multitude of attributes can be ascribed to Him. Saadia attributes the multiplicity of attributes to the shortcomings of human language, not to any multi­ plicity within God Himself. It is the nature of human language, he explains, to use a multiplicity of terms to describe a being who, ontologically, is really one. Whether Saadia's teachings imply that he considered Divine attributes to be negative terms or whether he accepted a doctrine of positive predication has been debated by his interpreters. Saadia's attempts to refute dualistic and trinitarian conceptions of God form in­ teresting sections of his discussions of Divine unity. In the final treatise of the section on Divine unity, Saadia turns to prophecy as God's communication with man, presenting, as part of his discussion, his philosophy of law. Once again using \.1u'tazilite dis­ tinctions, he divides the commandments of the Law (Torah) into "rational commandments," which, though recorded in the Law, can also be discovered by human reason, and "traditional commandments," which are solely products of the Divine will. Saadia's division of commandments became a major issue in later medi­ eval Jewish thought, some philosophers accepting the distinction and others (\.1aimonides in particular) re­ jecting it. In the second portion of the Book of Doctrines and Beliefs Saadia, as has been noted, turns to a discussion

3 39

of Divine justice, the central problem being how God's omnipotence and omniscience are compatible with the freedom of human choice. Accepting the freedom of human acts, both as a believing Jew and as a philosopher, Saadia marshals the classical arguments of libertarians to support his view. \!tan feels himself to be free, he states, and without a belief in human freedom no adequate doctrine of responsibility can be developed. Yet the affirmation of freedom of choice does not require the denial of God's omnipotence and omniscience. God, making use of His infinite power, willed that man should be free, and though God fore­ knows what man will do, this knowledge is not a causal factor in the production of human acts. In other treatises of the section on Divine justice, Saadia discusses the classification of human action and the nature of the soul. The final treatises contain what is probably one of the most extensive philosoph­ ical accounts of Jewish eschatological teachings -the resurrection of the dead, the \.1essiah, the redemption of Israel, and the afterlife. Saadia was the outstanding Jewish scholar and communal leader of his day. Born in 882 in Egypt, he received his early training in his native land, and he pursued further studies in Palestine. In 92 1 , when a controversy concerning a matter of the Jewish calen­ dar broke out between the Palestinian and Babylonian authorities (in reality a controversy about who should exercise religious authority in Jewish life), Saadia sided with the Babylonians and his view prevailed. In 928, he was appointed head (Gaon) of the declin­ ing rabbinical academy of Sura (near Bagdad ), and under his leadership the academy rose to new heights. When, in 930, he refused to endorse a judgment of the Exilarch's court, the Exilarch, who was the secular head of Babylonian Jewry, removed him from his post. Saadia spent seven years in exile in Bagdad before he was reinstated. During a major portion of his life he waged a ceaseless battle against the sectarian Karaites (who accepted the Bible but not the teachings of the rabbis) and he, as much as anyone, is responsible for their ultimate decline. He died in 942. Saadia was a prolific writer who contributed to all branches of Jewish learning. He translated the Bible into Arabic, commenting at the same time on a num­ ber of its books. He composed works on Jewish law, the

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liturgy, and Hebrew grammar. As polemicist, he wrote against f:Iiwi al-Balkhi, who had attacked the Bible, and against the Karaites. His commentary on the mys­ tical Sefer Ye:?irah contains matters of philosophical interest. Saadia is included in this volume not only as an outstanding Jewish philosopher but also as a repr� sentative of Mu'tazilite Kalam at large. The two s�

lections appearing here are both taken from his Book of Doctrines and Beliefs. The first contains his doc­ trine of creation with its characteristic four proofs. The second selection is devoted to his philosophy of law. As part of it, there appears the division of the commandments of the Law into those that are ra­ tional ( 'aqltyyat, sikliyot) and those that are traditional (sam 'iyyat, shim 'iyot).

2 9 . Book of Doctrines and Beliefs Chapter 1 . Creatio ex nihilo I . The Nature of the Problem The problem dealt with in this chapter is one on which we have no data from actual observation or from sense perception, but conclusions which can be derived only from postulates of the pure Reason. We mean the problem of the origin of the world. The ul­ timate proposition which we seek to establish is of a very subtle nature. It cannot be grasped by the senses, and one can only endeavour to comprehend it by thought. This being the nature of the subject, one who inquires into it must necessarily expect to arrive at re­ sults of a corresponding nature, and one ought not to reject such results, or try to obtain results of a different character. It is quite certain that the origin of things is a matter concerning which no human being was ever able to give evidence as an eye-witness. But we all seek to probe this distant and profound matter which is be­ yond the grasp of our senses, and regarding which it has been said by the wise king, That which was is far off, and exceeding deep; who can find it out?' (Eccl. 7.24). Should, therefore, our inquiry lead us to the conclusion that all things were created ex nihilo - a thing the like of which was never experienced b y sense perception - we have no right to reject it out of hand on the ground that we never experience the like of it, so how can we bel ieve it; for what we tried to find from the verv outset of our inquirv was precisely some­ thing the li ke of which we ne�er experienced. We must welcome this solution and rejoice in it, since it presents a success on our part in attaining the object of our inquiry. I thought it necessary to make the above introduc­ tory remark in order to warn the reader of this book not

From Saadya Gaon, Book o( Doctrines and Beliefs, ed. and tr. Alexander Altmann (London: East and West Li­ brary, 1 946; reprinted by Hackett Publishing Company, 2002). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

to expect me to demonstrate the creatio ex nihilo by way of sense perception. I have made it clear in my Introduction that if this were possible there would be no need for argument or speculation or logical infer­ ences. Furthermore, there would be agreement be­ tween us and all other people in regard to its truth, and opinions would not be divided on any point connected with this problem. But in fact we do depend on spec­ ulation to reveal to us the truth of the matter, and on arguments to clarify it, since it in no way comes within the domain of experience or sense perception. We are, in fact, not the only ones who have agreed to accept a cosmological theory which has no basis in sense perception. All those who discuss this problem and seek a solution are agreed on this point. Those, for instance, who believe in the eternity of the world seek to prove the existence of something which has neither beginning nor end. Surely, they never came across a thing which they perceived with their senses to be without beginning or end, but they seek to establish their theory by means of postulates of Reason. Like­ wise, the Dualists exert themselves to prove the co­ existence of two separate and opposing principles, the mixture of which caused the world to come into be­ ing. Surely they never witnessed two separate and op­ posing principles, nor the assumed process of mixture, but they try to produce arguments derived from the pure Reason in favour of their theory. In a similar way, those who believe in an eternal Ylatter regard it as a Hyle, i.e. something in which there is originally no quality of hot or cold, moist or dry, but which becomes transformed bv a certain force and thus produces those four qualities : Surely their senses never perceived a thing which is lacking in all those four qualities, nor did they ever perceive a process of transformation and the generation of the four qualities such as is sug­ gested. But they seek to prove their theory by means of arguments drawn from the pure Reason. And so it is with all other opinions, as I shall explain later. This be­ ing so, it is clear that all have agreed to accept some view concerning the origin of the world which has no basis in sense perception. I f, therefore, our treatment

34 1

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of the subject produces something similar, namely, the doctrine of the creatio ex nihilo, let the reader of this book who inquires into this problem not be hasty in rejecting our theory, since from the very outset of his inquiry he was virtually asking for some result sim­ ilar to this, and every student of this problem is asking for such a result. But the reader may be assured that our arguments are stronger than theirs, and that, more­ over, we are in a position to disprove their arguments, whatever their school of thought. We have, too, the ad­ vantage of being supported in our doctrine by the signs and miracles of Scripture which were intended to con­ firm our belief. I would ask the reader to bear in mind these three facts which will meet him in every part of this book, namely, ( 1 ) that our arguments are stronger than theirs; (Z) that we are able to disprove the argu­ ments of our opponents; and ( 3 ) that we have in the bargain the testimony of the miracles narrated in Scripture. Z. Four Arguments for Creation

From these introductory remarks I go on to affirm that our Lord (be He Exalted) has informed us that all things were created in time, and that He created them ex nihilo, as it is said, 'In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth' (Gen. 1 . 1 ) , and as it is fur­ ther said, 'I am the Lord that maketh all things; that stretched forth the heavens alone; that spread abroad the earth by :\1yself (lsa. 44. 24). He verified this truth for us by signs and miracles, and we have accepted it. I probed further into this matter with the object of finding out whether it could be verified by speculation as it had been verified by prophecy. I found that this was the case for a number of reasons, from which, for the sake of brevity, I select the following four. [ 1 ] The first proof is based on the finite character of the universe. It is clear that heaven and earth are fi­ nite in magnitude, since the earth occupies the centre and the heaven revolves round it. From this it follows that the force residing in them is finite in magnitude. For it is impossible for an infinite force to reside in a body which is finite in magnitude. This would be con­ tradictory to the dictates of Reason. Since, therefore, the force which preserves heaven and earth is finite, it necessarily follows that the world has a beginning and

an end. Being struck by the force of this argument, I subjected it to a close examination, taking good care not to be hasty in drawing definite conclusions before having scrutinized it. I, therefore, asked myself: Per­ haps the earth is infinite in length, breadth and depth? I answered : If this were the case, the sun could not en­ compass it and complete his revolution once every day and night, rising again in the place in which he rose the day before, and setting again in the place in which he set the day before; and so with the moon and the stars. Then I asked myself: Perhaps the heaven is infi­ nite? 'lo this I answered: How could this be the case seeing that all celestial bodies are moving and contin­ ually revolving round the earth? For it cannot be sup­ posed that only the sphere that is next to us performs this rotation, whereas the others are too large to per­ form any movement. For by 'heaven' we understand the body which revolves, and we are not aware of any­ thing else beyond it; far less do we believe it to be the heaven and not revolving. Then I explored further and asked: Perhaps there exists a plurality of earths and heavens, each heaven revolving round its earth. This would involve the assumption of the co-existence of an infinite number of worlds, a thing in its nature im­ possible. For it is inconceivable that, nature being what it is, some earth should exist above the fire, or that air should be found beneath the water. For both fire and air are light, and both earth and water are heavy. I cannot doubt that if there were a clod of earth outside our earth, it would break through all air and fire until it reached the dust of our earth. The same would happen if there were a mass ofwater outside the waters of our oceans. It would cut through air and fire until it met our waters. It is, therefore, perfectly clear to me that there exists no heaven apart from our heaven, and no earth except our earth; moreover, that this heaven and this earth are finite, and that in the same way as their bodies are limited, their respective force, too, is limited and ceases to exist once it reaches its limit. It is impossible that heaven and earth should continue to exist after their force is spent, and that they should have existed before their force came into be­ ing. I found that Scripture testifies to the finite char­ acter of the world by saying, 'From the one end of the earth, even unto the other end of the earth' (Deut. 1 3 .8), and, 'From the one end of heaven unto the

Book of Doctrines and Beliefs other' ( Deut. 4. 32). It further testifies that the sun re­ volves round the earth and completes its circle every day by saying, The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteneth to his place where he ariseth' (Eccl. 1 . 5 ) . [2] The second proof i s derived from the union of parts and the composition of segments. I saw that bod­ ies consist of combined parts and segments fitted to­ gether. This clearly indicated to me that they are the skilful work of a skilful artisan and creator. Then I asked myself: Perhaps these unions and combinations are peculiar to the small bodies only, that is to say the bodies of the animals and plants. I, therefore, extended my observation to the earth, and found the same was true of her. For she is a union of soil and stone and sand, and the like. Then I turned by mental gaze to the heavens and found that in them there are many layers of spheres, one within another, and that there are in them also groups of luminaries called stars which are distinguished from one another by being great or small, and by being more luminous or less lu­ minous, and these luminaries are set in those spheres. Having noted these clear signs of the union and com­ position which has been created in the body of the heaven and the other bodies, I believe also, on the strength of this proof, that the heaven and all it con­ tains are created. I found that Scripture also declares that the separateness of the parts of the organisms and their combination prove that they are created. In re­ gard to man it is said, 'Thy hands have made me and fashioned me' ( Ps. 1 1 9.73); in regard to the earth it is said, 'He is God, that formed the earth and made it, He established it' (lsa. 45. 1 8); in regard to the heaven it is said, '\Vhen I behold Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which Thou hast established' ( Ps. 8.4). [3] The third proof is based on the nature of the ac­ cidents. I found that no bodies are devoid of accidents which affect them either directly or indirectly. Ani­ mals, e.g. are generated, grow until they reach their maturity, then waste away and decompose. I then said to myself: Perhaps the earth as a whole is free from these accidents? On reflection, however, I found that the earth is inseparable from plants and animals which themselves are created, and it is well known that what­ soever is inseparable from things created must likewise

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be created. Then I asked myself: Perhaps the heavens are free from such accidents? But, going into the mat­ ter, I found that this was not the case. The first and principal accident affecting them is their intrinsic movement which goes on without pause. There are, however, many different kinds of movement. If you compare them, you will find that some planets move slowly, others quickly. And another kind of accident is the transmission of light from one celestial body to an­ other one, which becomes illumined by it, like the moon. The colours of the various stars also differ. Some are whitish, some reddish, others yellowish and greenish. Having thus established that these bodies are affected by accidents which are coeval with them, I firmly believe that everything which has accidents co­ eval with it must be created like the accident, since the accident enters into its definition. Scripture also uses the accidents of heaven and earth as argument for their beginning in time by saying, '1, even I, have made the earth and created man upon it; I, even My hands, have stretched out the heavens, and all their hosts have I commanded' (!sa. 45. 1 2). [4] The fourth proof is based on the nature of Time. I know that time is threefold: past, present, and future. Although the present is smaller than any in­ stant, I take the instant as one takes a point and say: If a man should try in his thought to ascend from that point in time to the uppermost point, it would be im­ possible for him to do so, inasmuch as time is now as­ sumed to be infinite and it is impossible for thought to penetrate to the furthest point of that which is infinite. The same reason will also make it impossible that the process of generation should traverse an infinite period down to the lowest point so as ultimately to reach us. Yet if the process of generation did not reach us, we would not be generated, from which it neces­ sarily follows that we, the multitude of generated be­ ings, would not be generated and the beings now existent would not be existent. And since I find myself existent, I know that the process of generation has tra­ versed time until it has reached us, and that if time were not finite, the process of generation would not have traversed it. I profess unhesitatingly the same be­ lief with regard to future time as with regard to past time. I find that Scripture speaks in similar terms of the far distant time by saying, 'All men have looked

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thereon; man beholdeth it afar off (Job 36.25); and the faithful one says, 'I will fetch my knowledge from afar' (Job 36.3 ). It has come to my notice that a certain heretic in conversation with one of the Believers in the Unity (of God) objected to this proof. H e said: 'It is possible for a man to traverse that which has an infinite number of parts by walking. For if we consider any distance which a man walks, be it a mile, or an ell, we shall find that it can be divided into an infinite number of parts.' To answer this argument some thinkers resorted to the doctrine of the indivisible atom. Others spoke of tafra (the leap) . Others again asserted that all the parts [in space] are covered by corresponding parts [in time] . Having carefully examined the objection raised I found it to be a sophism for this reason: the infinite di­ visibility of a thing is only a matter of imagination, but not a matter of reality. It is too subtle to be a matter of reality, and no such division occurs. :\"ow ifthe process of generation had traversed the past in the imagina­ tion, and not in reality, then, by my life, the objection raised would be valid. But seeing that the process of generation has traversed the real time and reached us, the argument cannot invalidate our proof, because in­ finite divisibility exists only in the imagination. In addition to these four proofS, there are some more, part of which I have adduced in my Commen­ tary on Genesis, others in my Commentary on H ilkot Ye�!rah, and in my Refutation ofl:liwi al-Balkhi, in ad­ dition to more details which the reader will find in other books of mine. �oreover, the arguments em­ ployed by me in the present chapter in refutation of the various opponents of our belief, are all sources of this belief, and strengthen and confirm it. 3. The Transcendence of the Creator; Arguments for the creatio ex nihilo Having made it perfectly clear to myself that all things are created, I considered the question whether it was possible that they had created themselves, or whether the only possible assumption is that they were created by someone external to them. In my view it is i mpos­ sible that they should have created themselves, for a number of reasons of which I shall mention three. The first reason is this: Let us assume that an existing body

has produced itself. It stands to reason that after hav­ ing brought itself into existence that particular body should be stronger and more capable of producing its like than before. For if it was able to produce itself when it was in a relatively weak state, it should all the more be able to produce its like now that it is relatively strong. But seeing that it is incapable of creating its like now when it is relatively strong, it is absurd to think that it created itself when it was relatively weak. The second reason is: If we imagine that a thing has cre­ ated itself, we shall find that the question of the time when it did so presents an insuperable difficulty. For if we say that the thing created itself before it came into being, then we assume that it was non-existent at the time when it created itself, and obviously something non-existent cannot create a thing. If, on the other hand, we say that it created itself after it had come into being, the obvious comment is that after a thing has come into existence there is no need for it to create itself. There is no third instant between 'before' and 'after' except the present which, however, has no du­ ration in which an action can take place. The third reason is: If we assume that a body is able to create it­ self, we must necessarily admit that at the same time it is likewise capable of abstaining from the act of self­ creation. Under this assumption we shall find that the body is both existent and non-existent at the same time. For in speaking of the body as capable, we take it to be existent, but in going on to speak of it as being capable of abstaining from the act of self-creation, we assume it to be non-existent. Obviously, to attribute ex­ istence and non-existence to the same thing at the same time is utterly absurd. I found that Scripture had already anticipated the refutation of this belief, namely, that things created themselves, by saying, 'It is He that hath made us, not we' ( Ps. 1 00.3 ) and bv re­ buking the one who said, ·�y river is mine own, and 1 have made it for myself (Ez. 39.3). Having proved by these arguments that things can on no account have created themselves, and that they must necessarily be regarded as created by a Creator who is external to them, I tried to reason out an answer to the question whether the Creator made them from something (prima materia) or from nothing (ex nihilo) as revealed in the Scriptures. I found that it is wrong to assume that things were created from something al,

Book of Doctrines and Beliefs

ready existent. Such a view is self-contradictory, be­ cause the term creation implies that the substance of the thing is created and has a beginning in time, whilst the qualifying statement 'from something' implies that its substance was eternal, uncreated, and without be­ ginning in time. If we assume that things were created ex nihilo, there is no self-contradiction. Someone may raise the following objection: 'You have affirmed as a conclusion acceptable to Reason that things have a Creator because in the realm of sense perception you have witnessed that nothing is made without a maker. But you likewise find in the realm of sense perception that nothing comes from nothing. Why, then, have you made use of the propo­ sition that nothing is made except by a maker, and have ignored the proposition that everything comes from something already existent, seeing that the two propositions are equally valid?' �y answer is: The problem which forms the object of my inquiry, and to the solution of which my arguments are directed, is the question whether or not the world is created ex ni­ hilo. Obviously it is inadmissible that a proposition which is under examination should be adduced as evidence in favour of itself against an alternative proposition. We must seek evidence on its behalf from elsewhere; and since the principle that nothing is made except by a maker has a bearing on the subject­ matter of our inquiry, I applied this to the solution of our problem, and it led to the conclusion that the world is created ex nihilo. I followed this procedure al­ though I found that in certain cases it is permissible to use a proposition in this way as evidence; but this is a subtle matter which lies outside the province of this book. I, therefore, decided to leave it alone and to fol­ low the plain course. Another point which I made clear to myself is this: Whatever we imagine to be the thing from which the existent beings were created, it must necessarily be as­ sumed to have existed from all eternity. But if it were pre-existent, it would be equal to the Creator in regard to its eternity. From this it follows that God would not have had the power to create things out of it, since it would not have accepted His command, nor allowed itself to be affected according to H is wish and shaped according to H is design, except if we were to imagine, in addition to these two, the existence of a third cause

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which intervened between the two with the result that the one of the two became the �aker, and the other the thing made. But such a view would postulate the existence of something which does not exist; for we have never found anything except a maker and the thing made. I remembered further that the principal object of our inquiry was to find out who created the substance of things . .\"ow it is well known to us that the maker must necessarily be prior to the thing made by him, and that, by virtue of his being prior to the substance of the thing, the thing becomes one that is created in time. Should we, however, believe the substance to be eternal, the maker would not be prior to the thing cre­ ated by him, and neither of the two could claim pri­ ority so as to be the cause of the other's existence, which is completely absurd. There is another point which I remembered: The assertion that God created the world from something already existent must inevitably lead to the conclusion that He created nothing at all. For the reason which causes us to think that the world originated from some­ thing (prima materia) is the fact that such is the way we find the objects of sense perception come into being . .\"ow it is common ground that the objects of sense perception are also found to exist in Space and Time, in shape and form, in measured quantity, in a fixed position and mutual relation, and other similar conditions. All of these experiences are on the same footing as the experience that everything comes from something . .\"ow if we are going to allow all these ex­ periences their full weight and say that things were cre­ ated from something which existed in Time, Space, form, quantity, position, relation, etc., all this would have to be considered as eternal, and nothing would remain to be created. Creation would become mean­ ingless altogether. I went still further, arguing that if we fail to admit the existence of something which has nothing prior to it, it is impossible for us to accept the fact that there exists anything at all. For if we consider in our mind that one thing comes from another thing, we have to predicate the same thing of the second as of the first, and say that it could only have come into being from a third thing; the same predicate again must be made of the third thing, namely that it could only have come

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into being from a fourth thing, and so ad infinitum. Since, however, an infinite series cannot be com­ pleted, it follows that we are not in existence. But, be­ hold, we are in existence, and unless the things that preceded us were finite (in number), they could not have been completed so as to reach us. What we have deduced from the postulates of Rea­ son, has also been intimated in the Books of the Prophets, namely, that material bodies originate from the design of the Creator, as is said, 'Before the moun­ tains were brought forth, or ever Thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to ever­ lasting, Thou art God' (Ps. 90.2). Having thus succeeded in demonstrating by argu­ ment these three principles, viz. that the things are created, that their Creator is external to them, and that He created them ex nihilo, as it has been verified by the Tradition of the Prophets and by miracles, and this opinion being the first one discussed in this chapter (which is devoted to a speculation on the origin of things) I will now proceed to deal, in the following, with twelve opinions which are held by those who dis­ agree with us in regard to this doctrine. Thus there are altogether thirteen opinions. I shall explain both the arguments put forward by the advocates of these opin­ ions, and their refutation. Whenever their opinion seems to find support in Scripture, I shall elucidate the Scriptural passages concerned, with the help of God.

Chapter 3. Commandment and Prohibition l . Law and Grace

It is desirable that I should preface this chapter by the following remarks. Since it has been established that the Creator (be He exalted and glorified) is eternal, and that there was nothing co-existent with Him, H is creation of the world testifies to His goodness and grace, as we mentioned at the end of Chapter I in speaking of the reason for the creation of things, and according to what we find in the Scriptures as well, namely, that He is good and doeth good, as is said, 'The Lord is good to all; and His tender mercies are over all His works' (Ps. 145.9).

The first of His acts of kindness towards His crea­ tures was the gift of existence, i.e. His act of calling them into existence after they had been non-existent, as He said to the men of distinction among them, 'Everyone that is called by :\1y name, and whom I have created for :\1y glory' ( Isa. 43.7). Thereafter He offered them a gift by means of which they are able to obtain complete happiness and perfect bliss, as is said, 'Thou makest me to know the path of life; in Thy presence is fullness of joy, in Thy right hand bliss for evermore' (Ps. 1 6. 1 1 ). This gift consists of the commandments and prohibitions which He gave them. When faced with this statement, the first impulse of Reason will be to object that God should have been able to bestow upon men perfect bliss and to grant them everlasting happiness without imposing upon them commandments and prohibitions. :\1oreover, it would seem that in this way H is goodness would have been more beneficial to them, seeing that they would have been free from the necessity of making any labo­ rious effort. :\1y answer to this objection is that, on the contrary, the order instituted by God, whereby ever­ lasting happiness is achieved by man's labours in ful­ filment of the Law, is preferable. For Reason judges that one who obtains some good in return for work which he has accomplished enjoys a double portion of happiness in comparison with one who has not done any work and receives what he receives as a gift of grace. Reason does not deem it right to place both on the same level. This being so, our Creator has cho­ sen for us the more abundant portion, namely, to be­ stow welfare on us in the shape of reward, thus making it double the benefit which we could expect without an effort on our part, as is said, 'Behold, the Lord God will come as a :\1ighty One, and His arm will rule for Him; behold, His reward is with Him, and His rec­ ompense before Him' ( Isa. 40. 1 0). 2. The Two Classes of Law: Laws of Reason and Laws of Revelation After these introductory remarks, I now come to the subject proper. I declare that our Lord (be He exalted and glorified) has informed us through the words of His prophets that He wishes us to lead a religious life

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by following the religion which He instituted for us. This religion contains laws, which He has prescribed for us, and which it is our duty to keep and to fulfill in sincerity, as is said, 'This day the Lord thy God com­ manded thee to do these statutes and ordinances; thou shalt, therefore, observe and do them with all thy heart and with all thy soul' (Deut. 26. 1 6) . His messengers established these laws for us by wondrous signs and miracles, and we commenced to keep and fulfill them forthwith. Later we found that speculation confirms the necessity of the Law for us. It would, however, not have been appropriate to leave us to our own devices. It is desirable that I should explain which matters and aspects [of the Divine Law J speculation confirms as necessary. ( 1 ) I maintain that Reason bids us re­ spond to every benefactor either by returning his kind­ ness if he is in need of it, or by offering thanks if he is not in need of recompense. :\"ow since this is a dictate of Reason itself, it would not have been fitting for the Creator (be He exalted and glorified) to waive this right in respect of Himself, but it was necessary that He should command his creatures to worship Him and to render thanks unto Him for having created them. (2) Reason further lays down that the wise man should not permit himself to be vilified and treated with contempt. It is similarly necessary that the Cre­ ator should forbid His servants to treat Him in this way. ( 3 ) Reason further prescribes that human beings should be forbidden to trespass upon one another's rights by any sort of aggression. It is likewise necessary that the Wise should not permit them to act in such a way. ( 4) Reason, furthermore, permits a wise man to employ a workman for any kind of work and pay him his wages for the sole purpose of allowing him to earn something, since this is a matter which results in benefit to the workman and causes no harm to the employer. If we put together these four points, their total is tantamount to a summary of the laws which our Lord has commanded us. That is to say, he imposed upon us the duty of knowing and serving Him with a sincere heart, as the prophet said, 'And thou, Solomon, my son, know thou the God of thy father, and serve Him with a whole heart and with a willing mind' ( 1 Chron. 28.9). 'fben he forbade us to hurl at Him insult and

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abuse although it causes Him no harm, seeing that it would not be consonant with wisdom to permit it. 'fbus it is said, 'Whosoever curseth his God, shall bear his sin' (Lev. 24. 1 5 ). He did not permit us to trespass upon one another's rights nor to defraud one another, as it is said, 'Ye shall not steal; neither shall ye deal falsely, nor lie one to another' ( Lev. 1 9. 1 1 ) . These three groups of laws and their subdivisions form the first of the Two Classes of Law. The fi rst group of the three includes humbleness before God, worship, standing up in His presence, etc. All this is written in the Law. The second group includes the prohibition of idolatry, swearing falsely by His name, describing Him by derogatory attributes, etc. All this is written in the Law. To the third group belongs the practice of justice, truth-telling, equity, and impartiality, the avoid­ ance of homicide, adultery, theft, talc-bearing, and trickery against one's fellowman; also the command that the Believer should love his neighbour as he loves himself, and whatever is involved in these precepts. All this is written in the Law. In regard to all the things which He commands us to do, He has implanted approval of them in our Rea­ son; and in regard to all the things which He forbids us to do, He has implanted disapproval of them in our Reason, as is said in the Book of Wisdom- wisdom be­ ing identical with Reason - 'For my mouth shall utter truth, and wickedness is an abomination to my lips' (Prov. 8.7). The Second Class of Law consists of matters re­ garding which Reason passes no judgment in the way either of approval or disapproval so far as their essence is concerned. But our Lord has given us an abundance of such commandments and prohibitions in order to increase our reward and happiness through them, as is said, 'The Lord was pleased, for His righteousness' sake, to make the Law great and glorious' (I sa. 42 . 2 1 ) That which belongs to the things commanded by God assumes the character of 'good,' and that which be­ longs to the things forbidden by Him assumes the character of 'evil' on account of the Service thereby performed. Thus the Second [Class of Law] is in fact joined to the First Class. In spite of this one cannot fail, upon closer examination, to find in it some slen­ der moral benefits and rational basis to act against the .

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greater moral benefits and firmer rational basis at­ tached to the First Class [of Law]. It is proper that I should first and foremost discuss the rational laws. Wisdom lays down that bloodshed must be prevented among human beings, for if it were allowed people would annihilate each other. That would mean, apart from the pain suffered, a frustra­ tion of the purpose that the Wise [God] intended to achieve through them. Homicide cuts them off from the attainment of any purpose He created and em­ ploys them for. Wisdom further imposes the prohibition of adul­ tery; for, otherwise, human beings would become sim­ ilar to the animals. �o person would be able to know and honour his father in return for the education he received at his hands. �or would a father be able to bequeath to his son his means oflivelihood though the son inherited his existence from him; nor would one know one's other relatives such as paternal and mater­ nal uncles; nor would one be able to show them the kindness due to relatives. Wisdom further imposes the prohibition of theft; for if it were permitted some people would rely on their ability to steal some other people's property, and would not do any productive work nor amass wealth. But if everyone relied on this sort of subsistence, theft itself would be rendered impossible by the abolition of property since nothing at all would be found to steal. Wisdom further lays down, and this is perhaps its first principle, that one should speak the truth and ab­ stain from falsehood, for truth is a statement which ac­ cords with facts and actual conditions, whereas a l ie is a statement which does not accord with facts and ac­ tual conditions. When the senses perceive an object in a certain state, and the soul ascribes to it another state, then the two statements conflict in the soul, and from their contradiction the soul knows that there is some­ thing blamable. I will furthermore say this: I have met certain people who think that our selection of these four things as objects of reprobation is wrong. In their opin­ ion that is to be reprobated which causes them pain and grief, and the good, in their opinion, is that which causes them pleasure and rest. To this proposition I re­ ply at length in Chapter 4 on the subject of Justice. I will here mention only part of the reply. I say that one

who holds this opinion has ignored all the arguments which I have adduced, and one who ignores this is a fool with whom we need not trouble ourselves. �evertheless, I shall not be content until I have com­ pelled him to admit that his view is self-contradictory and impossible. I declare that the killing of an enemy whilst pleasing to the killer causes pain to the killed; that the seizure of any property or married woman whilst pleasing to the person who commits this act causes pain to the person who suffers it. According to the opinion of those who hold this theory it would nec­ essarily follow from their premise that each of these acts is both wisdom and folly at the same time: wisdom because it affords pleasure to the person who commits murder, robbery and rape; and folly because it causes pain to his victim. But every theory which involves a self-contradiction is invalid. ll1e contradictory quali­ ties may also appear combined in relation to one per­ son as in the case of honey into which poison has been dropped. In this case the same person eats some­ thing which affords pleasure and causes death at the same time. Surely this compels them to admit that (according to their theory) wisdom and folly will exist together. The Second Class of Law concerns such matters as are of a neutral character from the point of view of Reason, but which the Law has made the objects of commandment in some cases, and of prohibition in others, leaving the rest in their neutral state. Instances are the distinguishing from ordinary days of Sabbath and Festivals; the selection of certain individuals to be Prophets and Leaders; the prohibition to eat cer­ tain foodstuffs; the avoidance of sexual intercourse with certain people; the abstention enforced during periods of impurity. The great motive for the obser­ vance of these principles and the laws derived and branching out from them is, of course, the command of our Lord and the promotion of our happiness re­ sulting from it, but I find for most of them also some minor and partial motives of a useful character. I wish to point out and to discuss some of them, realizing as I do that God's wisdom (be He blessed and exalted) is above all this. The distinction conferred upon certain times has these advantages: In the first place, it enables us to desist from our work at certain times and obtain a

Book of Doctrines and Beliefs

rest from our many travails; furthermore, to enjoy the pleasures of learned pursuits, and to have the benefit of additional prayer; there is also the advantage that people will be free to meet at gatherings and discuss matters concerning their religion and proclaim them in public, etc. The distinction conferred upon a certain person has these advantages: it enables the public to receive reliable instruction from him, to ask his intercession; and it enables him to inspire people with a desire for godliness that they may attain something like his own rank, and to devote his efforts to promoting piety amongst men, since he is worthy of that; and similar activities. The prohibition not to eat certain animals has this advantage: it makes it impossible to liken any of the animals to the Creator; since it is unthinkable that one should permit oneself either to eat or to declare as im­ pure what one likens to God; also it prevents people from worshipping any of the animals, since it is un­ thinkable that one should worship either what serves for food or what one declares as impure. The prohibition of sexual intercourse with certain categories of women has this advantage: in the case of a married woman, I have already stated the reason be­ fore. As to one's mother, sister, and daughter, the rea­ son is this: the necessities of daily life foster intimacy between the members of a family. Consequently, if marriage between them were permitted, they would indulge in sexual licence. Another purpose is to pre­ vent men from being attracted only by those women who are of beautiful appearance and rejecting those who are not, when they see that their own relatives do not desire them. The laws of defilement and purity have this advan­ tage: they teach men humility and reverence; they strengthen in them (the desire) to pray once more af­ ter a period of neglect; they make people more con­ scious of the dignity of the Holy Place after they have abstained from entering it for a period; and they turn their minds to the fear of God. If one examines most of these revelational laws in the above fashion, one will find for them a great num­ ber of partial motives and reasons of usefulness. But the wisdom of the Creator and His knowledge is above everything human beings can attain, as is said, 'For

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the heavens are higher than the earth, so are Yly ways higher than your ways' ( Isa. ; ;.9). 3 . The .:\'ecessity of Revelation Having distinguished in the preceding chapter the Two Classes of Law, namely, the rational and the rev­ elational laws, it is now desirable that I should explain the necessity of prophetic Revelation. For I have heard that there are people who contend that men do not need prophets, and that their Reason is sufficient to guide them aright according to their innate cognition of good and evil. I, therefore, subjected this view to the test of true reasoning, and it showed me that if things were as they make out, God would know it better and would not have sent us prophets, for He does not do things which have no purpose. Then I reflected still more deeply and found that mankind is fundamen­ tally in need of the prophets, not solely on account of the revelational laws, which had to be announced, but also on account of the rational laws, because their practice cannot be complete unless the prophets show us how to perform them. Thus, for instance, Reason commands gratitude towards God for the blessings re­ ceived from Him, but does not specify the form, time, and posture appropriate to the expression of such grat­ itude. So we are in need of prophets. They gave it a form which is called 'Prayer'; they fixed its times, its special formulae, its special modes, and the special di­ rection which one is to face when praying. Another in­ stance: Reason disapproves of adultery, but gives no definition of the way in which a woman can be ac­ quired by a man so as to become his legal wife; whether this is effected merely by a form of words, or merely by means of money, or by her and her father's consent, or by the witness of two or ten people, or in the presence of the whole population of a town, or by a symbolic act, or by impressing a sign upon her. So the prophets laid down the rules of dowry, contract, and witness. Another instance: Reason disapproves of theft, but gives no definition of the way in which some object of value becomes a man's property; whether by means of labour, or by way of commerce, or by inher­ itance, or by the appropriation of unowned articles as in the case of a hunter in the desert or on the seas; whether the purchase becomes valid by the payment

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of the price, or by the act of taking possession of the purchased article, or .merely by repeating a form of words; and so with many other questions that arise in the wide and extensive field covered by this subject. So the prophets presented us with an equitable decision on every single point relating to these matters. Another instance is the measure of punishment for crimes. Rea­ son deems it right that every crime be punished ac­ cording to its measure, but does not define its measure; whether punishment should be in the nature of a rep­ rimand only, or should include the defamation of the evildoer, or include, in addition, corporal punish­ ment by stripes, and if so, to what extent, which ques­ tion applies likewise to defamation and reprimand; or

whether nothing short of capital punishment would suffice; and whether the punishment of every offender should be one and the same, or whether one punish­ ment should be different from another. So the prophets prescribed a measure of punishment for each crime ac­ cording to its nature; they did not lay down the same rule for all, fixing for some a fine in money. And be­ cause of these matters which we have enumerated, and other similar ones, we are in need of prophetic Reve­ lation. If we had had to rely on our own judgment in these matters, we should have opposed each other and never agreed on anything; moreover, prophetic Reve­ lation was necessary on account of the revelational laws, as I have already explained.

Solomon Ibn Gabirol, c. l 022-c . l 0 5 1 or c . l 070 Solomon ibn Gabirol was the outstanding Jewish Neoplatonist of the �iddle Ages. A pure philosopher rather than one interested in theological speculations, he devoted his efforts to the construction of an onto­ logical system. This system is outlined in The Fountain of Life (Me�or l:fayyim, Fons Vitae), though the work is primarily devoted to his account of matter and form. The ultimate principle in Gabirol's ontology is the first essence, also called God and the first maker. From the first essence emanated the Divine Will, and from the Divine Will, substances composed of matter and form. The latter substances, in turn, are divided into spiritual substances intelligible to the mind and cor­ poreal substances perceptible to the senses. Gabirol describes the first essence in typical neo­ platonic fashion. Existing above all beings, the first essence is infinite and eternal. Only its existence, not its essence, can be known. It is one in all respects and its attributes are identical with its essence. To bridge the gap between the first essence, which is one, and the world of matter and form, which is many, Gabirol posits the Divine Will as an interme­ diary principle. However, Gabirol's doctrine of the Divine Will is not completely clear. There are pas­ sages in which he considers the Will as an attribute or power identical with God, while there are other pas­ sages in which he describes it as a hypostasis existing in separation from God. Since the Divine Will is the primary agent in the production of the world, it is also called the Acting Logos. The Will can only be known through a kind of intuition that may occur once the created order has been understood. It appears that

Gabirol, in positing Will as the intermediary princi­ ple, desires to emphasize the voluntary character of creation. Within the created order, all beings, spiritual as well as corporeal, are composed of matter and form. The highest principles within the world are universal matter and universal form, these two principles being said to have emanated respectively from the first essence and the Divine Will. The rest of the created order comes to be through the successive determina­ tions of universal matter and universal form, much in the same manner as a species comes to be through the determination of a genus by a differentia. In the pro­ cession of matters and forms the higher matters and forms appear in the lower ones. This doctrine is said to make Gabirol a proponent of the doctrine of the multiplicity of forms - a doctrine stating that several substantial forms exist within a given substance. Invoking the analogy between man, the micro­ cosm, and the world, the macrocosm, Gabirol posits three spiritual substances. Just as intelligence, soul, and nature are formal principles within man, so a uni­ versal intelligence, a universal soul, and a universal nature are formal principles within the world. These spiritual substances, it should be emphasized once again, are composed of matter and form. Within the corporeal world, body is the highest substance. It is composed of the form of corporeality and of a matter that marks the transition from the spir­ itual to the corporeal world. The corporeal world con­ sists of celestial bodies, human beings, animals, plants, and the four elements. 351

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Jewish Philosophy

Little is known of Gabirol's l ife. He was born c. ! 022 in \.1alaga, reared and educated in Saragossa. A marked poetic gift came early to the fore, and we have poems he composed at the age of sixteen. He was in touch with many of the Jewish notables of his day, as poems about them show, but his relations with them were not always amiable. According to some authorities he died c. J 0 5 1 , according to others c. l 070. Whereas in the world at large Gabirol became known for his philosophical work, among his own people he was celebrated for his magnificent Hebrew poems. He composed over three hundred secular and religious poems, some of the latter becoming a fixed part of the liturgy of Spanish Jews. Of these poems, a poetic version of his cosmology, entitled "The Royal Crown" (Keter Malkut), possesses philosophical inter­ est. In The Fountain of Life Gabirol mentions that he had written a book on the Divine Will, but this work is not extant. He also wrote two popular ethical trea­ tises, The Improvement of the Qualities of the Soul and The Choice of Pearls. Gabirol's The Fountain of Life suffered a rather curious fate. Written in Arabic, the total work has been preserved only in a Latin translation made by Johannes Hispanus and Dominicus Gundissalinus in the middle of the twelfth century. This translation was well known to Christian scholastics who vari­ ously called its author Avicebrol, Avicebron, or Aven­ cebrol. Because of the total absence of all biblical and rabbinic quotations from the work, some scholastics considered its author a \.1uslim, while others, possibly because of the hypostasized Will, considered him a Christian Arab. :\ot until the middle of the nine­ teenth century, when Solomon \.1unk discovered and published a Hebrew florilegium made by Shem Tob Fal�era ( 1 22 5- 1 290), was it established that Ibn Gabirol and Avicebrol are one and the same author. William of Auvergne, Albertus Magnus, Alexander Hales, Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, and Duns Sco-

tus were among the scholastics who cited Gabirol. He was known among them primarily for his doctrine that spirih1al beings -the angels of the scholastics -are composed of matter and form. Franciscan thinkers ac­ cepted Gabirol's doctrine, while Dominicans rejected it. In Jewish circles Gabirol's influence was slight. His views were adopted by some later !\:eoplatonists, and some of his doctrines had an influence on medieval Jewish mysticism. The following two selections from The Fountain of Life deal with two aspects of Gabirol's doctrine of matter and form. The fi rst consists of one of his deriva­ tions of the existence of universal matter and univer­ sal form - that described by him as being "according to the universal way." The second selection contains a series of arguments designed to show that spiritual sub­ stances are composed of matter and form and that, in spite of this, they are simple. In reading these selections it should be kept in mind that Gabirol is a dialectician. He relies heavily on images and analogies and often uses many argu­ ments to prove the same point. Moreover, depending on the context, he uses the same philosophical term in different senses. Gabirol's method makes it difficult, at times, to find the exact meaning of what he says. The Aristotelian notions of matter and form are used by Gabirol in two distinct ways. In certain passages they are considered as principles of change, matter being the principle of potentiality, form the principle of actuality. ln other passages, matter and form are considered as component principles of all substances. According to this usage (which is the one prevalent in the selections), matter is the unifying underlying substratum that de­ termines the nature of a substance by giving it its name and essence, while form inheres in matter as a princi­ ple of multiplicity and action. Gabirol frequently in­ vokes the neoplatonic principle that if an inferior being emanated from a superior one, the properties of the su­ perior are found in the inferior.

3 0 . The Fountain of Life First Treatise

PUPIL. I understand about the soul what is possible for me to understand, even though I have not attained the ultimate knowledge which I should have about it. Nevertheless, let us now begin to inquire about uni­ versal matter and universal form. I wish, however, that you begin by first enumerating the chapter headings of the subjects about which we must inquire during the investigation in which we are engaged and that you divide the treatises of the investigation in a rea­ sonable manner, in order that I may have everything [readily] at hand. �lAsTER. Since it is our purpose to inquire about universal matter and universal form, we must say that everything composed of matter and form is divided into two [kinds] : composite corporeal substance, and simple spiritual substance. Corporeal substance [ in tum ] is likewise divided into two [kinds]: corporeal matter which underlies the form of qualities, and spir­ itual matter which underlies the corporeal form. Be­ cause of the latter distinction there must be in this work two treatises, to which we must direct our atten­ tion. The first of these is devoted to those matters which must first be set down in order to describe uni­ versal matter and universal form, to investigate the science of matter and form existing in sensible sub­ stances, and to speak of the corporeal matter which underlies qualities. The second treatise is devoted to a discussion of the spiritual matter which underlies the corporeal form. :\"ow, since the spiritual substance re­ quires proofs through which existence is attributed to it and demonstrations through which [its existence] is ascertained (for the existence of spiritual substance is

Translated for this volume by Arthur Hyman from Avencebrolis (Ibn Gebirol) Fons Vitae, ed. C . Baeumker (Beitriige zur Geschichte und Philosophie des Mittelalters, 1), \1iinster, 1 892-1 895.

not self-evident by means of necessary knowledge), there must also be a third treatise devoted to a discus­ sion of proofs for the existence of simple substances. There must, furthermore, be a fourth treatise devoted to the discussion of the inquiry into the knowledge which exists concerning the matter and form of sim­ ple substances. When the investigation contained in these four treatises will have been completed, we must then inquire about universal matter and form as they are in themselves. Hence there will be a fifth treatise which is appropriate for the investigation of this sub­ ject. Everything which we must investigate concern­ ing matter and form will be contained in the five treatises which we have delineated, and this is every­ thing this book contains. PUPIL. Since you have well divided the treatises of our inquiry concerning matter and form, let us begin then to investigate that which we intended to investi­ gate about these two principles. .\1ASTER. The existence of universal matter and universal form is known in more than one way. PUPil . .\1ake clear to me these ways. .\1ASTER. The ways by which the existence of uni­ versal matter and universal form can be known are, at first thought, two: the universal, general [way]. and the particular, specific [way]. PUPIL. How can the existence of matter and form be known according to the universal way? \1ASTER. Every object of investigation [the exis­ tence on which we want to know through its charac­ teristics, can only be investigated through those properties which are inseparable from it. When it has been understood that these properties exist and what they are, then the existence of that thing whose prop­ erties they are will be known. PUPIL. Give me an example of what you have said concerning this investigation . .\1ASTER. If there exists a universal matter of all things, the following properties must belong to it: it must exist in virtue of itself, it must have one essence, it must be a subject underlying diversity, it must give its essence and name to all things. .

353

3 54

Solomon Ibn Gabirol, c. l 022--c. l 051 or c. l 070

PUPIL. What is the proof that these properties must belong to universal matter and must be united with it? MASTER. If universal matter exists, it must have these properties. PUPIL. How is this? MAsTER. [Universal] matter must have existence, for something which does not exist cannot serve as matter for something which exists. [Universal matter] must be said to exist in virtue of itself, for if it did not exist in virtue of itself [it would exist in some other matter and this matter in still another] , so that the series [ of matters] would go on to infinity; [but the ex­ istence of an infinite series is impossible]. [ Universal matter] must possess one essence, for we seek only one matter of all existing things. [ Universal matter] must be a subject underlying diversity, for diversity exists only as the result of forms, and forms do not exist in virtue of themselves. [ Universal matter] gives its essence and name to all things, for since it underlies as subject all things, it must necessarily exist in all things, and since it exists in all things, it must give its essence and name to all things. PUPIL. It is clear now that universal matter must possess these properties. MAsTER. Therefore, seek these properties in all existing things and when you will have found them in all existing things, you will have found first matter. PUPIL. How shall I investigate this? MAsTER. By means of rational analysis, that is, by removing from what exists one form after another and by proceeding from that which is manifest to that which is hidden until you will come to a form after which there is no other form. This is the form which precedes all other forms in the matter which underlies it. PcPIL. Give me an example of this. YlASTER. An example of this is the heavens, of whose forms color is the first which appears. There­ after comes figure, then corporeity, then substantial­ ity, then the other forms, namely the spiritual intelli­ gences, until you will come to the notion of something created existing in virtue of itself which underlies as subject all these forms. Then you will have found that principle which is described by the previously men­ tioned properties, and you will have found that this is the hidden principle beyond which there is no other

principle except one, namely the creator, whose name is exalted. Pt;Pn . In accordance with your instructions I have removed the forms of that which exists one after another and I have proceeded from that which is manifest to that which is hidden until I have reach ed the hidden principle beyond which there is no other principle. YlASTER. :\'ow [reverse the process and] proceed again from the hidden principle to one that is mani­ fest and from one that is manifest to another principle that is more manifest until you will reach the point from which you began. You will find that the proper­ ties of the hidden principle [that is, universal matter] will accompany you and go with you from the hidden principle to the manifest one. PUPIL I have looked for these properties in all ex­ isting things, until I came to an individual substance which can no longer be divided and I have found them to be infused in all existing things and spread out through them from the highest being to the lowest, and yet I did not see that it is necessary because of this that there should exist a universal matter which un­ derlies all things and which is different from them. YlASTER. Did you not admit that it is one of the properties of universal matter to give to all things its substance and name? From where then would all ex­ isting things have these properties, if there would not exist a universal matter which gives these properties to them? Pt:Pn.. It is as you have said. But in what way is this matter different from the things which exisF YlASTER. It is not possible that the essence of mat­ ter should differ from the essence of existing things. However, existing things are made to differ from mat­ ter by the forms which come upon matter, that is, by differences which divide matter. Whence the mani­ fest difference among existing things comes to be only through manifest forms and, likewise, the hidden difference among existing things comes to be only through the hidden forms. Thus diversity comes to be only through the forms of existing things. But the hid­ den essence which receives the forms is the one first universal matter which has no diversity [in itsel�. PCPIL. Give me an example of this. .

The Fountain of Life :MAsTER. Consider golden armbands [and] neck­ laces made of gold, and put them in place of all exist­ ing things. You will find them to be different through [their] forms, while you will find the matter which un­ derlies them to be one. And the essence of their mat­ ter will not be different &om their own essence. From this [example] you can understand that existent things are different through their form, while the matter which underlies them is one and the essence of this matter is not different &om the essence of these things. PUPIL. You have done well in making me discover universal matter, for I found its properties in all exist­ ing things. \1ake me discover universal form in a man­ ner similar to this. M-\STER. Consider in like manner the properties of universal form. They are: to inhere in a subject which differs from it, to actualize the essence of that subject in which it inheres, and to confer existence upon this subject. If you will find these properties in the forms of existing things, you will have found the uni\'C:rsal form. PuPIL. What argument do you adduce [to show] that these properties belong to the universal form? M..sTER. The [universal] form must necessarily inhere in a subject, for if it did not inhere in a subject, it would be a subject; and in that case form would be matter, and it would have the characteristic of matter. To actualize the essence of the subject in which it in­ heres and to confer existence upon it belongs also to the form, inasmuch as something has the kind of be­ ing it has only through the form. PuPil.. Did we not say previously that matter also has existence? MAsTER. We said that matter has existence only when we had conferred upon it a spiritual form. In it­ self, however, matter does not have the kind of exis­ tence it has when a form is joined to it, the latter kind of existence being existence in actuality. Otherwise, when we say that matter has existence, we have in mind that it has existence only in potentiality. PuPIL. I have investigated these properties and find them to accompany all the forms of existing things. But &om whence can I say that there exists a universal form &om which is derived the existence and perfection of all forms?

355

MAsTER. Refrain &om this question now and do not hurry so much, for the answer to it will follow later.

Fourth Treatise

MAsTER. From what has been said previously it will have become clear to you that matter and form exist in composite substances. Likewise also, in the treatise which precedes this one it has been demonstrated to you by means of necessary proofs that simple substances exist. Ifyou now desire to know that matter and form ex­ ist in simple substances, remember those things which were said concerning composite substances, since the way of deriving the knowledge of matter and form is the same in both kinds of [ substances] . PUPIL. How is this? MASTER. If something inferior emanated from something superior, then everything existing in the in­ ferior must also exist in the superior. PUPIL. You seem to suggest that the corporeal spheres [substances] are in the likeness of the spiritual spheres [substances] and that the former emanated &om the latter. :'v1ASTER. I want nothing but this. PcPIL. Does it seem to you that if the corporeal spheres possess matter and form, so likewise do the spiritual spheres? \1ASTER. It cannot be otherwise. PuPIL What is the proof of thisJ \-lAsTER. The proof that the spiritual substances are the same in their matter, but different in their forms, is this: Since the effects produced by the spiri­ tual substances are different, there can be no doubt that their forms are different. But it is not possible that the matters of these substances are different, since all of these substances are simple and spiritual. And dif­ ference proceeds only &om the form, and simple mat­ ter has no form in itself. PuPIL. What would you answer, were I to say that [in the case of spiritual substances] the substance of soul is matter and the substance of intellect form?

3 56

Solomon Ibn Gabirol, c. I 022--c. l 0 5 I or c. l 070

.\1ASTER. It is impossible that the substance of soul be matter, since soul is composite, and since in­ tellect is above it, and since it is an agent [and because of these reasons it must possess a form] . Similarly, it is also not possible that the substance of intellect be form, for intellect is also composite [and hence it pos­ sesses matter] . The proof [that soul cannot be only matter and intellect only form] is the agreement of these two substances with other spiritual substances in respect to substantiality [as a result of which all spiritual substances possess matter] and the differ­ ence between them in respect to knowledge and per­ fection [as a result of which all spiritual substances possess form]. PUPIL. What would you say, were I to maintain that the [spiritual] substances are only matter? .\1ASTER. If these substances were only matter, they would not be differentiated and they would in­ deed be one and they would not act on anything. For the matter of something is one, not differentiated in it­ self, and actions proceed from forms not from matters, as is evident in the case of the sensible substances. PUPIL. Perhaps these substances are only forms? MAsTER. How is it possible that forms should in­ here in an underlying subject without there being a subject in which they inhere? PeriL. Why not? For indeed the forms are sub­ stances. .\�tASTER. If these simple substances are one form, how do they become differentiated? PuPIL Perhaps they are differentiated through themselves7 .\1ASTER. Were they differentiated through them­ selves, they would never have anything in common. Purn "Thus they differ in respect to perfection and imperfection. .\�tAsTER. If they were to differ in respect to per­ fection and imperfection, there would have to exist some subject which underlies perfection and which underlies imperfection. PuPIL. That which underlies perfection is the form and that which underlies imperfection is lik� wise the form . .\�tAsTER. H ence the forms are matters, since they are subjects which underlie something. [ But that form should be matter is impossible.] ..

PUPIL. From what has been stated I understand that simple substances are composed of matter and form. But add [further] explanation in support of this principle. .\1ASTER. It is also not possible that the intelligible substance be only one thing. It is likewise not possible that [the intelligible substance be composed ofj two matters or two forms. It follows, therefore, that [the in­ telligible substance is composed of] matter and form only. Purn.. How is it possible that the spiritual sub­ stance is composite if it is spiritual? .\1ASTER. Since it is necessary that the concept of spirituality is different from the concept of corporeity, and it is necessary that this concept inheres in som� thing other than it which describes it, hence spiritual substance is composed in the same way. [This passage may be rendered more freely: Since it is necessary that the form of spirituality is above the form of corporeity, and since it is necessary that the latter form inheres in a subject other than it which gives it its description, (and since corporeal substances are similar to spiritual substances inasmuch as they have emanated from them) , it follows that spiritual substance is composed of matter and form in the same way as corporeal sub­ stance.] And likewise the division of spiritual sub­ stance into intellect and soul and the distinction between intellect and soul in bodies and the separa­ tion of these one from the other provides proof for the distinction between matter and form [in spiritual sub­ stances]. Therefore, the relation of each of these sim­ ple substances in its distinction from the spiritual substance is like the relation of simple matter and form in their distinction from corporeal substance. And also the fact that one spiritual substance is sim­ pler and more perfect than another provides proof that above the spirituality that comes after body there is an­ other spirituality more perfect than it. PuPIL Indeed, were it the case that spirituality is a cause which prevents division, it would not be pos­ sible that soul is separate from intellect or that one spiritual substance should be more spiritual than an­ other. Hence the distinction between soul and intel­ lect is proof that spiritual ity is not one; and since it is not one, it is subject to division, and diversification comes upon it.

The Fountain of Life MAsTER. . . . I add a [further] explanation about

this by saying that, just as it is necessary that some body is simpler than another, and that there exist in these bodies matter and form which are closer to spirituality and which possess greater simplicity, so is it similar:y necessary that some spiritual substance is simpler than another and that spiritual substances possess matter and form of greater simplicity and greater spirituality. PUPIL. It is very difficult for me to imagine that these simple substances are composed of matter and form and to imagine that there exist diversity and dif­ ference among them, inasmuch as all are spiritual and simple. MAsTER. Since it is difficult for you to imagine that spiritual substances are composed of two [princi­ ples, namely matter and form] , consider their differ­ ence from composite substances and their difference among themselves. Then you will be forced to admit that there are differences by means of which spiritual substances differ from composite substances and by means of which spiritual substances differ among themselves, and [the causes of these differences] are the forms inhering in them. PUPIL. Even though it must be admitted that there exist differences among spiritual substances because of the forms which belong to them, why must it be admitted that there exist differences between these forms, since these forms exist in a state of highest spir­ ituality? MAsTER. You must watch yourself at this point, since the error [which occurs here] is not small. You must imagine the following about the spiritual forms, namely, that they all are one form and that there exists no diversity in them in respect to themselves, since they are pure spiritual [beings J. Diversity only befalls them because of the matter which underlies them as subject. For if [the underlying matter] is close to per­ fection it will be subtle and the form which inheres in it will be in the highest state of simplicity and spiritu­ ality, and the contrary will be the case if the underly­ ing matter is gross. Take the light of the sun as an example of this. For this light in itself is one, but when it encounters subtle, clear air it will penetrate it, and it will appear in a different manner in subtle, clear air and in thick, unclear air. Something similar must be said about the [spiritual] form.

3 57

PcPIL. What would you answer were I to say that one spiritual substance does not differ from another because of a substantial form, but because there comes upon it an affection (passio) resulting from a differ­ ence in the bodies which receive its action? Thus the difference between spiritual forms is the result of their action, not of the substance itself? \!lASTER. I did not think that you would raise ob­ jections of this kind after the previous proofs account­ ing for the differences among simple substances. [It is J as if it were not certain to you that the form of nature differs from the vegetative soul, and the form of the vegetative soul differs from the form of the sensory soul, and that the form of the sensory soul differs from the form of the rational soul, and that the form of the rational soul differs from the form of the intellect. PcPII The difference among simple substances is now clear to me. But perhaps at some other time there will arise some other doubt concerning these matters. How can you satisfy me concerning the difference among spiritual substances, seeing that my desire for this knowledge is very strong? \!lASTER. If this sort of doubt will befall you, recall some of the excellent and noble spiritual accidents ex­ isting in the substance of the soul. You will find then those accidents which will change the soul from that which it was and through which it becomes some­ thing which it was not. [And this change J is the result of the arrival of this subtle, accidental form in the soul. If this notion will arise in your imagination, you will resist by means of it the notion which made you doubt, and the former notion v. ill expel the latter and will es­ tablish its opposite. Pt;PII.. \1uch doubt has so far befallen me con­ cerning the division of simple substances into matter and form and concerning the difference of these spir­ itual substances one from the other, inasmuch as I deny that it is possible that something spiritual is di­ visible. Set down a discussion sufficient to remove this doubt. \!lASTER. As argument against the first doubt [namely that spiritual substances arc composed of matter and form] , set down the difference between spiritual substances and corporeal substances and the difference of spiritual substances one from another. As argument against the second doubt [namely that ..

3 ;s

Solomon Ibn Gabirol, c. 1 022--c. I O ; I o r c. 1 070

spiritual substances differ from one another] , set down the difference of the substance of the soul in itself which results from the accidents which come to be in it. Furthermore, consider that in the case of every­ thing which you perceive by means of sense or intel­ lect, you perceive only its form which actualizes its essence. Hence that form has a subject which under­ lies it and of which it is the form. When you will have understood by means of your intellect the form [of spiritual substance ] , that is, when you will have un­ derstood the nature of that form as a result of which the spiritual substance is what it is, then you will con­ clude that the spiritual substance possesses a matter which underlies its form. Pl!Pll.. From the arguments which you have pre­ viously set down it is now clear to me that the spiritual substance consists of matter and form. But is there an­ other argument which throws further light on this? Y!ASTER. Another argument showing that the sim­ ple substances which are above the composite sub­ stances are composed of matter and form is one that I have often set down previously. It is that the inferior proceeds from the superior and that the inferior is an example for the superior. For if the inferior comes to be from the superior, it is necessary that the order of corporeal substances is in the likeness of the order of spiritual substances. For just as the corporeal sub­ stances are arranged in a three-fold order, namely, gross body, subtle body, and the matter and form of which the corporeal substances consist, so, similarly, is the spiritual substance arranged in a three-fold or­ der, namely, first, the spiritual substance which comes after the corporeal substance, then, the spiritual sub­ stance which is more spiritual than it and, finally, the matter and form of which the spiritual substances are composed. Pt:Pn.. Y!ake clear to me that the superior exists in the inferior by means of a clear demonstration which establishes this notion. Y!ASTER. The proof that all spiritual substances and forms, that is, their essences and action, exist in corporeal substances is that everything that is com­ mon to the properties of things exists in the corporeal substances. Since the superior property exists in the inferior, does it not follow necessarily that whatsoever exists in the inferior must also exist in the superior? In-

deed, what has been stated in the logical sciences, namely, that the higher beings [the genera for exam­ ple] give their name and definition to the lower being [ the species ] , also shows this. PuPIL. This is certainly so. YIASTER. The fact that the intellect abstracts forms from bodies also shows this, and in this there is proof that the form of the intellect is in agreement with all forms, just as it is clear from the proofs which we pre­ viously set down that the forms which inhere in com­ posite substances emanate from the simple substances. PuPIL. You have already shown that it is not possi­ ble that spiritual substances are only matter or only form . But in what way shall I conceive them to be sim­ ple, if they are composed of matter and form? YIASTER. This should be clear to you from what has been said previously. However, I shall add further explanation. I say, that, since it is not impossible that something composite should be simple, so also is it not impossible that something simple should be compos­ ite. For something composite is simple in respect to something which is below it, and something simple is composite in respect to that which is above it. Pt:Pll . . Since the matter in simple substances dif­ fers from the form existing in them, consider whether the matter, inasmuch as it differs from the form and is opposed to it in its essence, can exist without the form even for an instant, or whether the matter cannot ex­ ist without the form even for an instant? For how can the distinction between matter and form become clear, if neither of these principles can exist without the other even for an instant? Y!ASTER. Wait a while, do not rush in asking until we shall have spoken about universal matter in itself and universal form in itself. PUPil . About what have we spoken then until now? YlASTER. Was your inquiry not about the principle that in the intelligible being there exists nothing be­ sides matter and form, just as in the sensible being there exist no principles besides these? And I demon­ strated that the intelligible substances consist of mat­ ter and form, because they differ in one respect and agree in another. I showed you the same principle also in other ways, and I showed you that it is false that they are only matter or only form. Through these demon­ strations you gained knowledge concerning the ques.

The Fountain of Life

tion whether matter and form exist in simple sub­ stances. Later on we shall describe what each one of these principles is [in itseln and we shall investigate how one principle differs from the other. Then you will have gained knowledge of whether they exist, what they are, and in what manner they are. But an answer to the question why they are you will derive from the quality of universal matter and universal form. For in this discussion we did not inquire about universal matter and universal form, for we intended to investigate only concerning the matters of spiritual substances. And we take the matter of the particular intellect and its form as an example for attributing

3 59

matter and form to each one of the spiritual sub­ stances. And I set this down as a rule for describing the substance of the universal intelligence and of the uni­ versal substances which are below it. PUPIL. How is this? �ASTER. Since the particular intellect is com­ posed of matter and form, it necessarily follows that the universal intellect is composed of matter and form . In this way we infer [from the composition on the particular intellect [the composition on the uni­ versal intellect, just as we infer the existence of the universal intellect from the existence of the particu­ lar intellect.

Moses Maimonides, 1 1 3 5- 1 204

�oses �aimonides was by far the best-known Jewish philosopher of the .\fiddle Ages and The Guide of the Perplexed ( Dalalat ai-I:Ia'irfn) is easily the most important medieval Jewish philosophical work. For Jewish thinkers, Rabbi �oses ben �aimon's .\1oreh Nebukim determined the course of philosophy from the early thirteenth century on, and there appeared hardly any work for the remainder of the :'vtiddle Ages that did not cite �aimonides' views and comment on them. For Christian scholastics of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, Rabbi �oses' Doctor Perplexo­ rum formed a respected part of the philosophical lit­ erature of the day. In his philosophical views, :'vtaimonides was an Aristotelian, and it was he who put medieval Jewish philosophy on a firm Aristotelian basis. As philoso­ pher, �aimonides followed the teachings of Aristotle as interpreted by the ancient commentators (Alexan­ der of Aphrodisias in particular) and as expounded by the :'vtuslim Aristotelians al-Farabi, Ibn Sina (Avi­ cenna), and Ibn Bajja (Avempace). The writings ofhis older contemporary Ibn Rushd (Averroes) became known to :'vtaimonides in his later years, but they do not seem to have had a formative influence on his thought. Though �aimonides considered himself in conti­ nuity with the :'vtuslim Aristotelians, adapting and de­ veloping their teachings in accordance with his own views, he differed from them in the works that he pro­ duced. Unlike the :'vtuslims, he wrote no commentary on any of Aristotle's works, collected no summa of the philosophical sciences, nor composed any independ­ ent philosophical treatises other than his early Trea tise on the Art of Logic. Holding that the available philo360

sophical literature was adequate for all needs, :'vtai­ monides investigated how the Aristotelian teachings can be related to the beliefs and practices of Jewish tradition. :'vtaimonides' Guide is a rather enigmatic book. In­ stead of being a work of straightforward philosophical or theological exposition, it takes the form of a per­ sonal communication to Joseph ben Judah, a former pupil. :'vtoreover, though the topics of the work are clear enough, their arrangement does not always fol­ low an easily discernible order. Still further, :'vtai­ monides himself informs his reader that he makes use of methods of indirection and that views set down in one part of the Guide at times contradict opinions ex­ pressed in another part. It is not surprising that this method produced divergent interpretations of :'vtai­ monides' views. There are scholars who see in him a moderate Aristotelian who made a sincere effort to harmonize scriptural and philosophical teachings, while there are others who consider him a rigorous Aristotelian who, by innuendo, subscribes to such doc­ trines as the eternity of the world and the determina­ tion of the human will. The enigmatic nature of the Guide resulted from design. For both the religious and the philosophical traditions within which :'v1aimonides worked main­ tained that speculative teachings are esoteric and that they are not to be communicated indiscriminately to the masses. Thus, :'vtaimonides' rabbinic sources record as binding law that :'vta'aseh :'vterkabah (the ac­ count of the Divine Chariot) and :'vta'aseh Bereshit (the account of the creation of the world) - rabbinic doctrines that :'vtaimonides unhesitatingly identified with Aristotelian metaphysics and physics- may only

.\1oses .\1aimonides, 1 1 35-1204

be taught to select, properly qualified students. This rabbinic injunction was in agreement with the princi­ ple of philosophical prudence that philosophical truths should not be communicated to the masses. In view of:\1aimonides' method and the rather un­ usual arrangement of the Guide, it may be well to re­ view the purpose and contents of the work. According to his own testimony, �aimonides wrote the Guide for someone who believed in the validity of the Law, who had studied the philosophical sciences and who had become perplexed by the literal meaning of certain biblical terms and parables. Hence, the work is not ad­ dressed to the simple believer who has no philosoph­ ical interest nor to the philosopher for whom religion has, at best, a utilitarian function. The proper subject of the Guide may thus be said to be the philosophical exegesis of the Law or, as �aimonides himself puts it, an account of "the science of the Law in its true sense" or of the "secrets of the Law." Since his addressee is vexed by the literal meaning of certain biblical terms and parables, in particular by anthropomorphisms and anthropopathisms applied to God, �aimonides begins, after a preface setting down the purposes and method of the work, with chapters devoted to biblical exegesis. Citing a large number of difficult terms, he shows that even in the biblical text these terms have, besides a physical, also a spiritual meaning. Having disposed of this philological task, �aimonides proceeds to a philosophical account of Divine attributes. Accepting Ibn Sinifs distinction be­ tween essence and existence as a real distinction, �ai­ monides concludes that no positive attributes may be predicated of God. Of the various attributes by which God is described, accidental attributes must be un­ derstood as attributes of action, while essential attri­ butes are to be understood as negations. The doctrine of "negative attributes" became a characteristic part of �aimonides' philosophical views. This doctrine was later attacked by, among others, Thomas Aquinas. Having shown how Divine attributes are to be un­ derstood, \1aimonides proceeds to formal demonstra­ tions of the existence, unity, and incorporeality of God, and to a discussion of the creation of the world. Prior to �aimonides, these doctrines had been discussed by �uslim and Jewish \1utakallimun (see page 2 I 6). But the Kalamic demonstrations, according to :vlai-

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monides, were false, for they were based on categories of the imagination rather than on categories of reason. Hence, \1aimonides considered it necessary to refute the arguments of the �utakallimun prior to setting down his own demonstrations. The latter chapters of the first part of the Guide are devoted to the exposition and refutation of the Kalamic views. �aimonides opens the second section of the Guide with his own demonstrations of the existence, unity, and incorporeality of God. His proofS are pre­ ceded by twenty-five physical and metaphysical propo­ sitions that he considers as having been demonstrated in the philosophical literature of his day. To these propositions he adds (as Thomas later on) the premise that the world is eternal. However, this premise is set down as a hypothesis required to demonstrate that God exists, not as a proposition that \1aimonides ac­ cepts as true. Generally speaking, \1aimonides' proofS of the ex­ istence of God are those familiar from the philosoph­ ical literature of the \1iddle Ages. All of his proofS, it appears, are physical, the demonstration of the exis­ tence of God as the prime mover being his major proof. As one of the four proofS that he presents, �ai­ monides accepts that of Ibn Srna, known as the proof from necessity and contingency. Yet, unlike Ibn Srna, \1aimonides seems to consider this proof as physical rather than metaphysicaL His proofS for the unity and incorporeality of God follow the conventional pattern. Once \1aimonides had completed his philosophi­ cal discussion of the existence, unity, and incorpore­ ality of God (and the intelligences), he turned to problems of a more religious nature, the first being the creation of the world. Whereas for Aristotle the ques­ tion whether the world is eternal or created formed a rather minor point in his discussion of the heavens, for �aimonides, as for other religious philosophers, it became a major issue. In solving this problem \1ai­ monides shows a good deal of ingenuity, and his solu­ tion was accepted by Aquinas later on. Attempting to show on textual as well as philosophical grounds that Aristotle never claimed to have demonstrated the eternity of the world, \1aimonides concludes that Aristotle's view is only a likely opinion, not a decisive demonstration. \1oreover, \1aimonides argues, demon­ strations of the eternity or creation of the world lie out-

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Jewish Philosophy

side the competence of the human mind. At best, the human mind can offer likely arguments for either view. In the absence of apodictic demonstrations, \1aimonides affirms that the arguments for the cre­ ation of the world are more convincing than those against it and, in addition, creation is supported by scriptural teachings. Once Maimonides had accepted the creation of the world, it became easier for him to account for miracles and prophecy. It is to an analysis of the latter problem that Mai­ monides turns next. In his account, he strikes a bal­ ance between the pietistic view, which sees prophecy solely as an arbitrary gift of God, and the philosophi­ cal view, which considers prophecy exclusively as a fulfillment of natural human powers. To be sure, the prophet, according to Maimonides, must be someone healthy in his constitution and possessed of a well­ developed intellect and imagination; but at the same time God has a role in prophetic inspiration, be it to prevent someone who is qualified from prophesying or be it to provide an emanation productive of prophecy. The prophet gains certain cognitions that the philoso­ pher does not have, but by far his most important func­ tion is political. In the case of Moses, he is someone who brings the Law, while in the case of the other He­ brew prophets he is someone who admonishes about the Law. After expounding certain metaphysical doctrines in explanation of passages from Ezekiel, \1aimonides, in the third part of the Guide, proceeds to a discussion of evil and providence . .\1oral evil is due to human choice, while natural evil is considered as a privation of good. God's providence for the world is generally manifest through the orderly laws of nature, but in the case of man it is individual, the degree of providence being determined by the development of the intellec­ tual faculties of a person. In the final section of the Guide, .\1aimonides turns to an explanation of the precepts of the Law. For him, the Law is the result of Divine wisdom rather than the product of arbitrary Divine will. Hence, for all the laws, with the exception of certain particular norms, there exist reasons - at least for God -and many of these rea­ sons can be discovered by the human mind. The gen­ eral purposes of the Law are two: to instill correct opinions and to regulate men's political relations. Cor-

reel opinions lead to the intellectual virtues on which, according to .\1aimonides, human immortality de­ pends. Maimonides sees a number of the ritual laws as reactions to pagan practices current in ancient times. Moses ben Maimon was born in Cordova on March 30, 1 1 3 5 . From his father, \1aimon, and other teachers he received a thorough training in biblical and rabbinic learning and in philosophy and the sci­ ences. When, in 1 1 48, the fanatic Almohads con­ quered Cordova, \1aimon and his family were forced to flee. Though little is known about the subsequent period, it seems that the family wandered at first in Spain, finally settling in Fez in :\orth Africa. But since ;\orth Africa was also under Almohad rule, the family, after a brief stay in Palestine, settled in Egypt in 1 16 5 . At first, the family was supported by \1aimonides' older brother, David, but after the brother's tragic death \1aimonides turned to the practice of medicine. He gained renown as a physician and was appointed court physician to the vizier of Saladin. Within the Jewish community \1aimonides be­ came known and respected for his unparalleled rab­ binic learning. Jews from all over the world addressed inquiries to him, and he was appointed head (:\agid) of all Egyptian Jews. He died on December 1 3 , 1 204, and he was buried in Tiberias. Of him it was said: " From \1oses (the prophet) to \1oses (ben \1aimon) there had arisen no one like unto him." Maimonides was one of the greatest Jewish legal scholars of all times. At the age of twenty-three he had begun his first major work, the Book of Illumination (Kitab al-Siraj, Sefer ha-.'vfa 'or), a commentary on the \1 ishnah, the basic rabbinic text. This work was com­ pleted ten years later, in 1 1 68. Though its subject matter is primarily legal, \1aimonides' commentarY contains two Introductions (really monographs) of special philosophical and theological interest. The in­ troduction to the "Sayings of the Fathers," known as the "Eight Chapters," contains a summary of his psy­ chological views, while the introduction to the tenth chapter of the tractate Sanhedrin contains an account of his eschatological views and of his famous thirteen principles ofJewish belief. The commentary was writ­ ten in Arabic and later translated into Hebrew. Mishneh Torah , his great code, was \1aimonides' second major work. In this book he undertook to

.\1oses \1aimonides, 1 1 35-1204

codify the totality of Jewish law, a task that no one had attempted before. \1ost of this work is taken up with practical matters of law, but, in line with his conviction that all believers must possess a rudi­ ment of correct theological and philosophical opm­ ions, Maimonides began the work with a "Book of Knowledge" ( Sefer ha-\1adda') containing a popular exposition of physical and metaphysical topics. The Mishneh Torah was his only major work written in Hebrew. Maimonides' third major work was The Guide of the Perplexed. Written in Arabic, the work was first translated into Hebrew by \1aimonides' contempo­ rary Samuel ibn Tibbon and a second time by Judah al-I:Iarizi. The medieval Latin translation was based on

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I:Iarizi's text. \1aimonides also composed a number of medical treatises, and among his other writings, the previously mentioned Treatise on the Art of Logic is of special philosophical interest. 'lbe following selections, all taken from the Guide, deal with four basic aspects of\1aimonides' thought. In Book I, chapters 5 1-52 and 57-58, we find a detailed account of his doctrine of Divine attributes. Book I, chapter 69, and Book II, chapters 1 3, 1 6, and 2 5 , pres­ ent aspects of \1aimonides' doctrine of creation and en­ gage with arguments for and against the eternity of the world. In Book II, chapters 32 and 36--3 8, \1aimonides discusses prophecy. And in Book II, chapters 39 and 40, and Book III, chapter 27, \1aimonides develops certain aspects of his philosophy of law.

3 1 . The Guide of the Perp lexed Book I Chapter

51

Many things obviously and manifestly exist. Some of these are primary intellectual concepts and sensory impressions, others, things close to these in character. Even if left to his own devices, a man would not need anyone to point these out to him. Such are the exis­ tence of movement and man's freedom to act, the phe­ nomena of generation and corruption, and the nature of things apparent to the senses, such as the heat of fire and coolness of water, and many suchlike things. Since some strange views have been put forward, bv error or with some ulterior motive, views which c �ntradict the nature of existing things by denying what is perceived by the senses or implying the exis­ tence of the non-existent, philosophers have been compelled to assert the truth of the manifest or to deny the existence of things wrongly imagined. Thus we find Aristotle asserting the existence of movement because it had been denied, or producing evidence against the existence of atoms because it had been asserted. Our denial of essential attributes in God belongs to this type of argument. It is really a primary intellectual concept, namely, that the attribute is something dif­ ferent from the essence of that to which it is attrib­ uted; that it is a state of the essence and therefore an accident. If the attribute is itself the essence of the thing to which it is attributed, then the attribute is either a mere verbal repetition, as would be saying 'man is man,' or an explanation of a term, as saying 'man is a reasoning animal,' For 'reasoning animal' is the essence and nature of'man.' The proposition does not contain a third term except 'animal' and 'reason-

From .\1aimonides: The Guide ofthe Perplexed, tr. Chaim Rabin (London: East and West Library, 1 9 52; reprinted by Hackett Publishing Company, 1 995). Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

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ing,' i.e. 'man,' who is completely described only by the combination of the two terms. 1 The function of this description2 is to explain the term, no more, as if one said 'the thing which is called man is the thing which is compounded of life and reason.' It is thus evident that an attribute must be one of two things. Either it is the essence of the thing to which it is attributed, and thus an explanation of a term. This kind of attribute we reject with reference to God, not for this reason but for another one, which we shall explain later on. Or the attribute is different from the thing to which it is attributed, and thus an idea added to that thing. Consequently that attribute is an accident of that essence. By protesting that the attri­ butes of God are not accidents, we cannot alter the fact that they are. Every new idea added to the essence is accessory to it, not completing its inherent character; that is exactly what 'accident' means. Furthermore, if the attributes are many, then many things must have existed eternally. Belief in Unity can­ not mean essentially anything but the belief in one single homogeneous uncompounded essence; not in a plurality of ideas but in a single idea. Whichever way vou look at it and however vou examine it, you must fi nd it to be �ne, not dividi�g itself in any manner or for any reason into two ideas. :\"o plurality must be dis­ coverable in it either in fact or in thought, as will be proved in the course of this treatise. Chapter

52

Whenever anything has a n attribute affirmed o f it, and we say of it: it is so-and-so, that attribute must fall un­ der one of five headings: Firstly, the thing may be described by its definition; thus man can be described as a reasoning animal. An

I . Or: no third term is available for the definition of man, except 'animal' and 'reasoning.' 2. Arabic has the same word for 'attribute' and 'descrip­ tion.'

The Guide ofthe Perplexed

attribute of this type indicates what the thing is (its quiddity) We have proved that this is nothing but an explanation of the name. This type of attribute is gen­ erally agreed to be inadmissible in the case of God, since there are no pre-existing causes that could be causes of His existence so that He might be defined by means of them. For this reason all thinkers who use their terms precisely are entirely agreed that God can­ not be defined. Secondly, something may be described by a part of its definition. Thm man may be described as 'animal' or as 'reasoning.' 'fne point about such attributes is their inherent mutual connection with the things to which they are attributed. If we say 'every man has rea­ son' that can mean nothing else but that every being that proves to be human will also prove to be gifted with reason. This type of attribute is universally re­ garded as inadmissible with regard to God, for if there were such a thing as a part of H is quiddity, H is quid­ dity would be compound. This is just as absurd with reference to God as the assertion disposed of in the last paragraph. Thirdly, something may be described by means of a thing outside its nature and essence, something nut required for the complete establishment of its essence. That thing would therefore be a quality adherent to it. Quality, i.e. the category, is an accident. If an attribute of this type were to be ascribed to God, He would be subject to accidents. \1erely to mention this is enough to show how far removed from H is nature and essence it is to consider him as possessing qualities. Well mav one wonder that those who ascribe attri­ butes to God find it possible to deny that He can be compared or has qualities. They say 'God cannot be qualified.' What can that mean except that He has no qualities? Yet whenever one asserts the essential at­ tachment of any attribute to an essence, it must either constitute that essence, and thus be the essence itself, or, be a quality of that essence. These three classes of attributes, viz. those describ­ ing what the thing is, those describing part of what it is, and those describing a quality ofwhat it is, have thus been demonstrated to be inadmissible with reference to God, because they all imply compositeness. This, as we shall prove later, cannot be admitted with refer­ ence to God.

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The fourth class of attributes is that which de­ scribes a thing in relation to something else, such as time, place or other individual. Thus you may de­ scribe Zayd as the father of A, or as the partner of B, or as living in C, or as one who lived in year X. This type of attribute does not imply plurality or change in the substance of the thing described, because it is all the same Zayd who is the father of Bakr and the partner of Umar or the employer of so-and-so, or the friend of someone else, or who lives in a certain house or was born in a certain year. These relations are not his sub­ stance or have anything to do with his substance, as would have been the case with qualities. At first glance it seems as if this type of attribute could be applied to God. On closer consideration, however, they prove to be inadmissible. It is obvious that God cannot stand in any relation to time and place. Time is an accident pursuant to motion, namely when the latter is considered from the point of view of sequence and thus becomes measurable, as is ex­ plained in works devoted to this subject. Motion is a thing that attaches to bodies. God is not a body, and therefore there can be no relation between Him and time. Similarly no relation is possible between Him and space. The question to be discussed is whether there is any relation, in the proper sense, between Him and any thing created by Him, so that this might be applied as an attribute. It is obvious at the first glance that there is no cor­ relation between Him and any of His creatures, since an essential feature of correlation is the mutuality through equality of the two related terms. God, how­ ever, must exist, and everything else may exist, as we shall explain later, and therefore correlation is un­ thinkable. One might think that some other type of re­ lation is possible between the two, but this is not so. One cannot imagine any relation between intellect and a colour, though both have the same kind of exis­ tence according to our system. How then can we imag­ ine a relation bern:een a thing and Him who shares no common trait with anything outside Him at all, for the term 'existence' is only applied to Him as well as to creatures by way of homonymy and in no other way. There is, therefore, no possible true relation between Him and anything He has created, because relation can at any time be only between two things of the

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same immediate species, but if they are merely of the same class no relation can exist between them. We cannot say 'this red colour is stronger, or weaker, than, or equal to, that green colour,' though both of them belong to the same class, that of colours. If the two terms belong to different classes, no relation at all is possible between them, even according to the primi­ tive standards of popular thinking. It makes no differ­ ence if the two classes are under the same category. For instance, there is no thinkable relation between a hundred cubits and the pungency of pepper; the first is a quantity and the second is a quality. There is also no thinkable relation between knowledge and sweet­ ness, or kindness and bitter taste, though all these are in the category of quality. How then could there be any relation between God and any creature, when there is that immense difference in the nature of existence, greater than which no difference can ever be. If any relation could be imagined, then it would follow that the accident of relation could attach to God. Though it is not an accident attaching to His essence, it is still an accident of sorts. In that case we should be forced to admit that God has attributes, though we should narrow these down to relations. Still, these are the kind of attributes that could most easily be granted in reference to God, since they would not imply a plurality of pre-existent things nor any change in His substance consequent on change of the things with which He would stand in relation. The fifth class of positive attributes is to describe a thing by its action. By 'its action' I do not mean the ca­ pacity of habitual professional activity, as in the terms 'carpenter' or 'blacksmith'; these are of the category of quality, as we have mentioned before. By 'action' I mean the action that the thing has carried out, as when one says: Zayd is the one who has made this door, or built a certain wall, or woven this garment This kind of attribute is far from contact with the essence of the thing to which it relates. It is there­ fore quite permissible to apply this type of attribute to God, especially as we know (as will be explained later on) that these different actions do not emanate from different elements within the essence of the agent, but all the different actions of God are from His essence, not from anything added to it, as we have explained before.

To resume the argument of this chapter: God is One in every respect without plurality and without ad­ ditions to His essence. The many different attributes found in the books as indicating Him are due to the manifold character of His actions, not to a plurality in His essence. Some of them have the purpose of indi­ cating His perfection, according to what we consider perfection, as we have explained before. Chapter 57 \-lore Advanced Observations on the Subject of Attributes It is obvious that existence is an accident affecting that which exists. It is, therefore, a concept superadded to the essence of that which exists. This is an incontro­ vertible fact Whenever the existence of a thing is due to a cause, its existence is a concept superadded to its essence. But whatever possesses an existence not due to any cause -and such is God alone, for this is what we mean when we say that God exists necessarily­ the existence of such a thing is its essence and char­ acter and its essence is its existence. Such a thing is not subject to the accident of existing, so that its existence should be a concept superadded to its essence. He ex­ ists necessarily and perpetually, not because existence came to Him from without or affected Him as an ac­ cident He therefore exists without existence, and sim­ ilarly lives without life, is powerful without power, and knows without knowledge. All these derive from a sin­ gle concept without any multiplicity, as we shall ex­ plain later on. It must also be clearly realized that unity and mul­ tiplicity are accidents affecting the thing which exists insofar as it is many or one. This is proved in the .VIeta­ physics [ 5 .6, 1 0 . 2 ] . As number is not the thing counted, so unity is not the thing which is one. All these are ac­ cidents of the class of discrete quantity which affect the numerable things in existence, because they are sub­ ject to such accidents. As for that which exists neces­ sarily and is truly simple w·ithout being in any way liable to compositeness, as it is absurd to think of it as affected by the accident of plurality, so it is absurd to think of it as affected by the accident of unity. I mean to say by this that His unity is not a concept superadded to His essence, but He is one without unity.

The Guide of the Perplexed

These subtle concepts, which almost pass the com­ nsion of our minds, are not readily expressed by rehe p words. Words are altogether one of the main causes of error, because whatever language we employ, we find the restrictions it imposes on our expression extremely disturbing. We cannot even picture this concept ex­ cept by using imprecise language. When we desire to indicate that the Divinity is not plural, all we are able to say is that He is one, although both, 'one' as well as 'many,' are terms of quantity. We must therefore com­ press our meaning and guide the mind to the proper understanding of our intention by saying 'one, but not by unity.' It is just the same when we use the word 'an­ cient'3 to indicate that He did not come into being. The lack of precision in our use of'ancient' is obvious, since one can only apply the term to something af­ fected by time, which is an accident supervening to movement, which implies a body. Furthermore it be­ longs to the class of relative terms. When you use 'an­ cient' of the accident of time, it is like saying 'long' and 'short' with regard to the accident of one-dimensional extension. One cannot really employ the terms 'an­ cient' and 'come into being' of anything to which the accident of time does not apply, any more than one can say of sweetness that it is either crooked or straight, or of a sound that it is salty or unseasoned. Such things are evident to one who has some practice in assessing the true meaning of ideas and expresses them with full rational comprehension, if he isolates them properly and does not employ the vague sense suggested by the words in common usage.4 Wherever you find the words 'first' and 'last' em­ ployed in Scripture in speaking of God [e.g. Isa. 44:6], this is to be taken in the same way as the passages where He is described as having eyes or ears. The meaning of those terms is that God is not affected by change and in no way ever acquires new properties, not that He falls under the category of time, so that some analogy might result between Him and things subject to time, and it can be said of Him that He is

3. Used in philosophical Arabic for 'uncreated.' 4. Other reading: taking them in their absolute sense, not with the connotation of comprehensiveness suggested by the words.

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first and last. All these terms are 'according to the parl­ ance of men' [Berakhoth 3 1 b ]. So, too, when we say one we mean thereby that He has no peer, not that H is essence is affected by the concept of unity. Chapter 58 \-lore Difficult than the Preceding Ones You must understand that the description of God by means of negative terms is the only sound description which contains no element of loose terminology, and implies altogether in no circumstances a lack of per­ fection in God. H is description by positive terms, on the other hand, comports polytheism and a lack of per­ fection in God in the way we have demonstrated. First I must explain how negative terms can in a manner be attributes, and in what way they differ from positive attributes. Then I shall show how it is that we have no way of describing H im except by negative terms and no others. An attribute is not something specifYing the thing described in such a way that it cannot share the attribute with anything else. On the contrary, an attribute may describe something even if it shares that attribute with other things and is not pe­ culiar to it. For instance, if you see a man from a dis­ tance and ask: what is that which is visible? the reply may be: some living being. This is without any doubt a correct description of the thing seen, though it does not set it aside as a peculiar thing from all others. Some specification does, however, result, namely, that the thing seen is not an object of the vegetable or min­ eral class. In the same manner also, if there is a man in a certain house, and you know that there is some object in it, but not what it is, you may ask: what is in this house? and may receive the reply: there isn't a veg­ etable or mineral object in it. lben you obtain some specification and know that a living being is in the house, though you do not know what kind ofliving be­ ing it is. From this point of view the negative attributes have something in common with positive attributes, because they must necessarily produce some specifi­ cation, even though this specification means merely the removal of the negated items from among those that we had before imagined un-negated. The differ­ ence between negative and positive attributes is in this, that positive attributes, even when they do not

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specify, indicate some part of the totality of the thing which we desire to know. This may be either a part of its substance or one of its accidents. The negative attri­ butes do not in any manner tell us anything about the essence of the thing which we wish to know as it is, ex­ cept incidentally, as in our example. After these prefatory remarks I state that it has been proved that God exists by necessity and that He is non­ composite, as we shall prove, and we can apprehend only that He is, not what He is. It is therefore mean­ ingless that He should have any positive attribute, since the fact that He is is not something outside of what He is, so that the attribute might indicate one of these two. Much less can what He is be of a com­ posite character, so that the attribute could indicate one of the parts. Even less can He be substrate to ac­ cidents, so that the attribute could indicate these. Thus there is no scope for any positive attributes in any way whatsoever. It is the negative attributes which we must employ to guide our mind to that which we ought to believe concerning God, because from them no plurality can result in any way. They can guide the mind to the ut­ most limit of what man can apprehend of God. For in­ stance, it has been proved to us that something must exist apart from those objects which our senses appre­ hend and which our reason can encompass with its knowledge. We say about this thing that it exists, meaning that it is absurd to say that He does not exist. Then we apprehend that its existence is not like the existence of, say, the elements, which are lifeless bod­ ies, and consequently say that He lives, meaning that God is not subject to death. Then we apprehend that this being is also not like the existence of heaven, which is a living body, and consequently we say that He is not a body. Then we apprehend that this be­ ing is not like the existence of an Intelligence, which is neither a body nor subject to death, but is due to a cause, and consequently say that God is eternal, meaning that there is no cause which called Him into being. Then we apprehend that the existence of this Being, which is its essence, is not only sufficient for that Being itself to exist, but many existences emanate from it. It is, however, not like the emanation of heat from the fire or the automatic connection between light and the sun, but it is an emanation which He per-

petually keeps going, giving it a constant flow arranged according to a wise plan, as we shall show. We shall say on account of these arrangements that He is omnipo­ tent, omniscient, and possessed of will. By these attri­ butes we mean to say that He is neither powerless nor ignorant nor distracted or disinterested. When we say He is not powerless, we mean that His existence is suf­ ficient to bring into existence things other than Him­ self. When we say He is not ignorant, we mean that He apprehends, i.e. lives, for whatever apprehends lives. When we say He is not distracted or disinter­ ested, we mean that all those existing things run along an ordered and planned course, not without super­ vision and coming into being just by chance, just like anything which a person possessed of will plans with purpose and will. Then we apprehend that there is no other being like this one. When we, therefore, say He is One, we mean thereby to deny any plurality. Thus it becomes clear that every attribute with which we describe Him is either an attribute of action or has the purport of negating its own absence' if our intention thereby is to apprehend His essence rather than His works. These negative terms are also not used absolutely of God, but only in the manner mentioned before, that one denies of a thing something that by the nature of things could not exist in it, as when we say of a wall that it does not see. You know well, dear reader, that the heaven is a moving body, and that we have measured it in yards and feet and have complete data on the extent of its parts and of most of its movements, and yet our minds are completely unable to apprehend what it is, al­ though we know that it must necessarily possess mat­ ter and form, but not matter of the kind that is with us. For this reason we can only describe it by indefinite nouns,6 not by definite positive terms. We say that the heaven is not light and not heavy, does not suffer ac­ tion and is therefore not receptive to impressions, it has no taste or smell, and similar negative terms. All this is because we are ignorant of that kind of matter. What will be the position then of our minds when they 5. Read perhaps salabu �ifatin 'adimaha, the negation of an attribute he does not have. 6. I.e., nomina infi.nita, nouns incorporating a negative.

The Guide of the Perplexed

endeavour to apprehend that which is free &om mat­ ter, non-composite to the utmost degree, of necessary existence, has no cause and is not attained by anything additional to its perfect essence - the meaning of its perfection being the denial of all shortcomings, as ex­ plained before? We can only apprehend that He is; that there exists a Being unlike any other being which He brought into existence, having nothing whatsoever in common with them, who has no plurality in H im, and is not powerless to bring into existence things other than He himself, and that His relation to the world is that of the captain to the ship. This also is not a true relation, and not even remotely resembles the real one, but it serves to guide the mind to the idea that God governs the universe, meaning that He supports it and keeps its order as it should be. This point will be explained in a more concrete manner. Praise be to Him who is such that when our minds try to visualize His essence, their power of apprehend­ ing becomes imbecility; when they study the connec­ tion between His works and His will, their knowledge becomes ignorance; and when our tongues desire to declare His greatness by descriptive terms, all elo­ quence becomes impotence and imbecility. Chapter 69

As is commonly known, the philosophers refer to God

as the First Cause.' Those known as \lfutakallimiin anxiously avoid this nomenclature, and call Him the Doer. They think it makes a great difference whether we call Him Cause or call Him Doer. Their argument is: if we call Him a cause, there must necessarily be something caused. This leads us to admit that the world is uncreated and necessarily co-existent with God. If we call Him Doer, we need not envisage the co-existence of that which is affected by his doing, be­ cause the Doer may exist long before that which he does. What is more, they cannot picture the Doer be­ ing a Doer except by assuming that he exists before that which he does. This argument shows that they do not realize the dis­ tinction between that which is potential and that which 7. Both Arabic and Hebrew possess two synonyms for 'cause,' which are often, as here, used side by side.

369

is actual. It must be clearly understood that there is no difference between the terms Cause and Doer in this respect. If you call a thing Cause when the act of cau­ sation is still a potentiality, it precedes the effect in time. When it is ach1ally a cause its effect necessarily exists by virtue of its existence as a cause in actuality. Similarly, if you call the Doer so when the act of doing is actual­ ity, then the thing done must necessarily co-exist with him. Before the builder builds the house he is not a builder in actuality, only potentially, just as the build­ ing materials are only potentially a house before the house is built. As soon as he starts building he becomes a builder in actuality, and the existence of a building be­ comes a necessary implication. Thus we have gained nothing by substituting the term Doer for the term Cause. What we intend to prove by this discussion is the equivalence of the two terms. We call Him Doer, though His handiwork may not exist, because there is nothing to restrain Him &om doing whenever He wishes. We can also call Him Cause in exactly the same sense, although the effect may not exist. The reason why the philosophers do prefer the name Cause over the name Doer must not be sought in their well-known belief that the world is uncreated, but in certain other ideas, which I shall briefly set out here. In the Physics [2. 3 and 2.7] it is proved that every­ thing that has a cause is caused by some thing, and that causes fall into four classes: matter, form, maker, and purpose. Some are immediate causes, others indirect, but every one of these four is called cause. They hold the view-which I do not contradict-that God is \1aker, Form, and Purpose. They refer to God as Cause in order to imply these three causes, meaning that He is the \1aker of the world, its Form, and its Purpose. In this chapter I intend to demonstrate what we mean by saying of God that He is the \1aker, the Form of the world, and at the same time its Purpose. There is no need for you to worry at this stage about the question whether God brought the world into be­ ing or whether it is necessarily co-existent with Him, as the Philosophers maintain, because that matter will be discussed at length in a suitable manner. Here we are concerned only with God as efficient cause of the individual acts happening in the world, in the same way as He is the efficient cause of the world as a whole.

370

\1oses \1a imon ides, 1 1 "3 5- 1 204

.

.

It is explained in the Physics [2.3] that we must in each case seek a further cause to every cause belong­ ing to one of the four kinds just enumerated. To any thing which comes into being one can find these four proximate causes, to these further causes, and to those again further causes, until one arrives at the ultimate causes. Thus something is caused and its efficient cause is such-and-such . This efficient cause in turn has an efficient cause and so on until one comes to a first mover, who is the true efficient cause of all these intervening items. E.g., A is moved by B, B is moved by C, C is moved by D, D is moved by E, and so on ad infinitum. But let us stop, for the sake of illustration, at E: there can be no doubt that it is E which moves A, B, C, and D. One would be correct in saying of the motion of A that it is due to E. It is in this sense that every action in the existing world can be attributed to God, whichever more prox­ imate agency be directly responsible for it. We shall deal with this later in more detail. He therefore is the ultimate cause in so far as He is an efficient cause. In the same manner we find, when we follow up the natural forms which came into being and cease to ex­ ist, that each must necessarily have been preceded by another form which prepared that matter for receiving this form. The earlier form was again preceded by an­ other form, until we come to the ultimate form which is prerequisite to the existence of the intervening forms, which in their turn are the cause of the latest form. That ultimate form in the whole of the existing world is God. It must not be thought that when we say of God that He is the ultimate form of all existing things, we are thereby referring to that Ultimate Form of which Aristotle says in his .\1etaphysics that it neither came into being nor ceased to be [7.8]. The form which is mentioned there is physical, not a separate intellect. When we say of God that He is the ultimate form of the world we do not mean it in the way that the form bound up with matter is the form of that matter, as if God were the form of a physical body. This is not at all what we want to say, but as every existing thing pos­ sessing a form is what it is only by virtue of its form, and when that form ceases to exist the thing itself ceases to exist, so, exactly the same as this relation, is the relation of God to all the last principles of the existing world.

By virtue of the existence of the Creator everything ex­ ists. God assists its continued existence by means of the function which, for want of a better name, is called8 emanation, as we shall expound in later chapters of this treatise. If one could imagine the Creator not to exist, then the whole existing world would not exist, and the very essence of the last principles would cease to be, as well as the ultimate effects and all intervening links. It results that God is to the world in the same relation as form to a thing possessing form, whereby it is what it is. Through the form its true character and essence is es­ tablished. That is the relation of God to the world. From this point of view it can be said that He is the ul­ timate form, and that He is the form of forms, i.e. that from which the existence and permanence of every form in the world is ultimately derived. The subsis­ tence of forms is due to Him, just as things possessing forms acquire permanence through their forms. Be­ cause of this function He is called in our language /Jey­ ha-<Jlamim, which means 'Life of the World,' as will be proved later on. The same considerations apply to final causes, or purposes. If a thing has a purpose, you may seek a pur­ pose for that purpose. Thus one can say, for example, that the material cause of a throne is wood, its effec­ tive cause the joiner, its formal cause squareness of a certain type, and its final cause that one should sit on it. :\ow you may ask what is the final cause or purpose of sitting on the throne, and you will be told: so that he who sits on it is raised above the ground. Then you may go on asking what is the purpose of being raised above the ground. You will then receive the reply: so that he who sits upon it gains in importance in the eye of the beholder. If you then asked further what is the purpose of his gaining importance in the eye of those who see him, you will be informed: so that he may be feared and respected. Ask then what is the purpose of his being feared, and the reply will be: so that his com­ mands will be carried out efficiently. Ask further what is the purpose of his commands being carried out ef­ ficiently, and you will be told: so as to prevent men from harming each other. Then you want to know

8. Literally: is called by metonymy, or by a name other than its real name.

The Guide of the Perplexed

what is the purpose of that, and it will be answered: so that they continue in an orderly existence. In this way each purpose requires a further purpose, until the mat­ ter ends with the absolute will of God, according to the opinion of some - as will be explained later-so that the last answer would be: thus God wills it. According to another opinion, which will also be explained later, the matter will end with the decree of H is wisdom, so that the last answer would be: thus His wisdom de­ crees. '!bus the consistent investigation of every pur­ pose will lead us to H is will or His wisdom -according to which opinion we accept. Both of these have proved , according to our system, to be identical with His essence. :\either His will or intention nor His wis­ dom are things in any way separable from H is essence, i.e. different from His essence. God is, therefore, the ultimate purpose of everything. Yloreover, the pur­ pose of all things is to resemble as far as possible His perfection, and that is what we mean by His will, i.e. His essence, as will be shown later. For this reason we say of Him that He is the Purpose of Purposes. I have now made clear whv one says of God that He is Ylaker, Form, and Purpos�, and that this is why the Philosophers call Him Cause, and not merely Ylaker. I must add, however, that one of those ,\iutakalli­ miin thinkers was foolish and impertinent enough to maintain that, if one assumed the Creator to be non­ existent, there would be no logical compulsion to as­ sume also the non-existence of the thing which He had brought into being, namely the world, because there was no need for the work to perish if its maker went out of existence after having made it. This would be quite correct if God were nothing but a Ylaker, and the thing He made did not require His support for its continued existence. When the joiner dies, the chest he has made does not cease to exist, since he has no influence on its continued existence. Since God, however, is also the form of the world, as we have ex­ plained before, and supports its continued existence and permanence, it is absurd to believe that the sup­ porter could disappear and yet the thing he supports continue to exist although it has no existence except by virtue of the support it receives. This is all that need be said concerning the errors of the theorv that God is only Ylaker, and not also Purpose and F�rm.

37 1

Book II C hapter 1 3 'Ibe views of people with regard to the problem whether the world is without beginning or created ­ having regard only to the opinion of those who believe that a God exists9 -are of three kinds: The first view, which is the one held by those who believe in the Law of\1oses, is that the whole world­ ! mean everything that exists, apart from God Him­ self-was brought into existence by God after having been completely and absolutely devoid of existence. They hold that only God alone existed and nothing beside H im, neither angel nor sphere nor anything that is within the sphere. Then He brought into exis­ tence all existing things, as they are, by His will and volition, and not from anything. Time itself, accord­ ing to them, is one of the things created, since time is consequent upon movement and movement is an ac­ cident of that which moves; the thing that moves, and upon the movement of which time is consequent, was created and came into being, not having existed before. When we say that God was before the world was created, where the word 'was' implies time; and like­ wise all the associations in our mind when we think of the infinite duration of His existence before the cre­ ation of the world - all this is assumed time or imag­ ined time, not true time. There can be no doubt that time is an accident. In our system it is just one of the created accidents such as blackness and whiteness. It does not belong to the class of qualities, though, but is an inherent accident of movement, as will be clear to anyone who has understood what Aristotle said in ex­ planation of the true nature of time. We shall here discuss a subject which is not strictly part of the matter with which we are dealing, but has some bearing on it. The analysis of the concept of time has presented difficulties to most thinkers, so much so that they became bewildered as to whether it had any real existence or not, as happened to Galen and others. The reason for this is that it is an accident of an 9. Reading ildhan maujudun.

372

.\1oses .\1aimonides,

1 1 3 5- 1 204

accident. Those accidents that have a primary existence

clearly into words by speaking of the

in bodies, such as colours and tastes, can be understood

and earth

without further ado, and their purport can easily be re­

[Gen.

1 4:22].

'v1aker 1 1 ofheaven

The second view i s the one held by a l l the philoso­

alized. Those accidents, however, that have accidents

phers of whom we have heard or which we have read.

as their substrate, such as brilliancy in colours and

They say that it is absurd to believe that Cod should

curvedness and roundness in l ines, are very hard to

bring forth something from nothing. In their opinion

grasp. This is especially so when on top of this the sub­

it is also not possible for a thing to pass away into noth­

strate accident is not permanently in one state but

ing. This means it is not possible for a thing possess­

changes from one state to another. Then the concept

ing matter and form to come into being after this

becomes even more difficult to grasp. With time the

matter had been completely devoid of existence. To

two things come together. It is an accident pursuant to

describe Cod as having the power to accomplish this

motion, which itself is an accident of the thing that

is in their opinion the same as to describe him as

moves. :Y1otion is not like blackness or whiteness which

having the power to unite two opposites 1 2 at the same

are permanent states, but it is the very nature and

time, or to create His own equal or to become a body

essence of motion that it does not persist in one state

or to create a rectangle with the diagonal equal to its

even for a single moment. This is one of the reasons

side, and similar impossibilities.

why the nature of time is so difficult to investigate. What I want to make clear is that time in our sys­

We can deduce from their arguments that they mean: just as there is no lack of power imputed to Cod

tem is a created thing that has come into being like all

in the fact that Cod does not create impossibilities­

other accidents as well as the substances which are the

because the impossible has a permanent character

substrates of these accidents. Therefore the creation of

which is not produced by anyone and can therefore

the world by Cod cannot have taken place in a tem­

not be changed - so there is no lack of power imputed

poral beginning, as time itself was one of the things

to Cod if He is not thought to be able to bring forth

created. You must give very careful consideration to

something from nothing, since this belongs to the cat­

this matter, so as to be ready to deal with the objec­

egory of impossibilities. They therefore hold that there

tions which are impossible to avoid for anyone who is

is some matter in existence, having no beginning just

not aware of this point. If you admit the possibility of

as Cod has no beginning, that Cod does not exist

time having existed before the world, you will be led

without it, nor it without Cod. They do not hold that

into accepting the belief that the world is uncreated,

its existence is of the same rank as the existence of

for time is an accident and must needs have a sub­

Cod, but they think H i m to be the cause of its exis­

strate. Thus something would of necessity have existed

tence. It would be to Him in the relation of, say, the

before this present world existed. That, however, is just

clay to the potter or the iron to the ironworker. This is

the \·iew from which we try to get away.

the matter from which He creates w·hatever He wills,

This then, is the first view. It is, without any doubt,

forming it one time into heaven and earth and another

the one on which the Law of :Y1oses is based. It comes

time into something else. Those who follow this opin­

in importance immediately after the dogma of the

ion believe that the heaven, too, has come into being

unity of Cod - make no mistake about that. It was our

and is liable to perish, but that it did not come into be­

father Abraham himself who first proclaimed this

ing from nothing and will not perish into nothing.

view, having arrived at it by speculation. For this rea­

the individual living beings come into being and per­

son he would call upon

the name of the Lord the Cod of the World [Gen. 2 1 : 3 3 ] , 10 after he had put this view

As

ish out of existing matter and into existing matter, so the heaven comes into being and perishes, and its coming into being and ceasing to be takes place in the

I 0 . The rendering with 'world' (a meaning which olam never has in biblical Hebrew) appears also in Targum and Talmud (Sotah l Ob). A.V. (with all versions): 'the ever­

same way as that of other existing things.

lasting Cod.'

1 2. Tibbon adds: in one object.

I I . A.V. 'possessor.'

The Guide of the Perplexed

3 73

The people of this class are divided into various sects, the number and opinions of which it would be useless to mention in this treatise. The general and fundamental tenet of this sect, however, is as I have de­ scribed it to you. It is also the belief of Plato. We find that Aristotle reports of him in the Physics [8. 1 , 25 l a 1 7 ] that he, Plato, believed that the heaven had come into being and was liable to perish. You can find this opinion clearly expressed in the Timaeus [ 3 8 b-